Possession
by sodalicious
Summary: Life isn't just guns and roses for Ranma, son of Nerima's mob boss. He has to take tutoring lessons in order to graduate on time, and his tutor ends up being none other than Akane. Will they die in enemy hands, or end up killing each other first?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Yes! I'm sorry! I didn't update "PreCode Romance" in the longest. Forgive me. I have no excuses. Instead I have this. A new story! Yay or boo, take your pick. It's a Ranma/Akane romance, like always. Light reading, nothing heavy or complicated… for now, at least.

And the title alludes to one of my favorites songs of all time, Possession by Sarah McLachlan. I melt every time I hear this song.

This chapter was brought to you by the song "Square One" by Coldplay.

* * *

**Possession**

By Sodalicious

Ranma crouched low behind the dumpster, grimacing at the stench permeating in the damp alleyway. Despite the barrage of gun shots ringing into the night, he was deaf to the sounds, having much experience and exposure to such noise ever since a young age. By now, they were music to his ears.

He snorted.

A bullet whizzed by his ear too close for comfort from behind him. _Wait… from behind!_

"Dammit, Ryouga! Fucking aim before you shoot!" He snapped to his comrade who was currently hiding around the corner of the building.

"Fuck you!" Was the reply.

Ranma let out a string of curses as the dumpster vibrated violently from a round of bullets denting and puncturing the metal surface. Taking a quick breath, he popped his head out for a millisecond, his eyes taking a brief survey of how many he and Ryouga were up against. Quickly ducking back, he watched a round of bullets passing by the space his head occupied moments ago.

_Nine versus two._

He smirked. Almost insulted at how easy it was going to be, he considered taking a nap first.

"What the fuck are you waiting for!" Ryouga hissed, truly fed up being shot at. After all, it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye, right? The boy happened to be quiet fond of his green eyes, Ranma knew.

Ranma signaled a countdown with his fingers to his impatient partner and at one, they shot out of their hiding spots with inhuman speed. Cloaked in the thick black of the night, the two figures leaped from wall to wall in the alley, a trail of bullets following their wake missing them by mere seconds. In a blink of an eye, they landed amidst the group of nine men.

Landing a neck snapping kick to one of the men's head, Ranma twisted his lean body to bring his other leg around for a roundhouse blow connecting with another henchman. His body fell to a crouch avoiding the swipe of a knife. He threw his weight to his hands flipping his body backwards as a leg shot out to kick the knife-welder in the face. Flowing with the momentum of his body, he landed on his feet stand up again to come face to face with another man holding a gun. Without hesitating, Ranma's hands shot out grabbing the gun and shoving it away from him. He kneed the man, successfully seizing the gun completely and fired a bullet into the man's head. He whipped his head around spotting Ryouga who just finished off the last of the group with a swift twist to the neck.

"I can't believe I skipped dinner for this shit," the pigtailed boy grumbled with a pout, carefully wiping the gun before tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder.

"Beef teriyaki and miso…" Ryouga groaned painfully clutching his stomach.

Ranma threw a dirty look over his shoulder at the fanged boy and proceeded to walk away from the bloodbath. "That dirty fat-ass better not have finished everything," he growled. "Or else I'm gonna shove the family katana down this throat."

Ryouga winced at the imagery, though he agreed wholeheartedly. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Nothing…" Ranma trailed off with a mumble, kicking a pebble as they briskly strolled to their home, the Saotome estate. His companion made a show of dusting the sleeves of his black dress shirt. Dim street lamps flickered above them, sporadically enveloping them in darkness. Donned in black dress shirts with the first few buttons loose and black trousers emphasizing their long legs, the two men easily blended into the blackest shadows cast at night. Even distracted in their mundane conversation, they moved smoothly and soundlessly.

"I'm sorry, I completely missed that," Ryouga drawled, "I'm a little deaf in my right ear."

"I fucking flunked six of my classes, okay!"

Choked laughter earned a chilling glare.

"How about the other three?"

"Barely passed."

Silence.

"Shit, Ranma, are you _trying_ to be stupid?"

"I just don't give a fuck!" He cried defensively. Azure eyes flashed in annoyance as Ranma tugged at his pigtail. "It's not like I'm going to be some quack doctor or a sleazy lawyer. I'm going to simply take over the family business: embezzlement, gambling, and killing shit-faced scum when they so much as look at me the wrong way!"

"Oh? What else does your family do, Mr. Saotome?" Ryouga wanted to know. "And speak a little louder, so the assholes at the police station down the block can hear you incase they overlooked something."

"As if it makes a difference," he snapped and rolled his eyes.

"Well, at least now they know the son of Saotome has shit for brains."

"Fuck you."

Ryouga merely smiled an all-knowing grin, irritating the hell out of the grumpy boy walking next to him. He let out a low chuckle, "Ah, I know what's got you bitchin' tonight." Getting no wordy reply except for a glare, he filled in the rest. "Mrs. Saotome doesn't know yet, right?"

Silence took over the conversation for a good solid seconds before Ranma uttered, "Not yet," he paused, "and she won't find out because I hid my grade report." He smugly smirked jutting his proud chin up in the air. _I'm so clever_.

"Where?"

"Where else?" He asked back, "In my underwear drawer."

The gates opened automatically for them, revealing a massive three story mansion with elements of Japanese architecture including a koi pond surrounded by sakura and morning glory trees in full bloom. And a walkway laid out in stones led up to the front of the mansion where a slim figure wrapped in silky gold-threaded kimono stood waiting.

"Ma!" Ranma's eyes brightened and they rushed up to the woman. They bowed respectfully to the female head of the Saotome clan.

"Ranma, Ryouga," she acknowledged warmly, "I hope none of you are a gravely injured?"

"Not a scratch."

"No, ma'am."

Out of thin air, she whipped out a crumpled sheet of paper. "Ranma," she started sweetly, "what is this?"

He fell to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief.

They watched silently as a maid served them tea around the dining table. Ranma shifted uncomfortably under his mother's unwavering stare. Trying not to think of the implication that in order to find the grade report she had to have gone through his unmentionables, he bit his tongue and kept his eyes on the cup of tea in front of him.

Nodoka Saotome cleared her throat and watched her son carefully as Ryouga tried to blend in with the background. "I called the school today," she began, "and after a long discussion with the Dean, we agreed to assign you with a tutor." She ignored his gaping mouth and continued, "You have one semester to make up for the classes you failed."

"What!" He cried incredulously. "I ain't gonna take those classes over again!"

"You don't have a choice!" Nodoka bit back at him, shutting him up effectively. "It's either get left back for one semester, or drop out of school," she raised her voice a notch when he opened his mouth to object, "and I refuse to have a son run the family business without a college education!"

She paused to take a sip of her tea.

"Now, I don't care what you concentrate in," his mother softened her tone, "it can be art history, music, or ballet." Muffled laughter from the corner had Ranma flipping Ryouga a rude hand gesture under the table. "But you must graduate with a college degree in order to take your father's place."

Taking his silence as submission, she smiled delightfully. "I took the trouble of finding you a tutor myself."

He cringed managing a sickly smile.

"I talked to Nabiki Tendo."

Ranma stared blankly at his mother and let out a low groan smacking his forehead against the table. _Anyone but her._ He moaned inwardly.

His mother was naturally surprised by his reaction. "Is there a problem?" She inquired.

"Yeah," he breathed out a dramatic sigh, "she hates my guts."

She laughed at his theatrics, "She doesn't hate your guts."

"Of course I hate his guts," Nabiki Tendo frowned reflexively at the thought of the arrogant pigtailed boy. She stood, arms crossed, in the middle of her younger sister's room. "I hate that pompous ass, but his sweet mother offered a hefty sum, too tempting for me to turn down."

"Well, that's fine," Akane said from her position on her bed, "teach the guy and earn your money. Why are you in my room telling me this?" She chewed on the eraser end of her pencil, an opened book resting on her lap, and papers strewn all around her.

"Because," Nabiki answered flippantly, "you'll be the one teaching him." She observed her recently polished nails and ignored her sister's gaping imitation of a dead mackerel.

Akane stared wordlessly at her sister. The slim yet abundantly curvaceous young woman in a racy red tank top and tight boot cut jeans stood confidently in the room, regarding her glittering red nails with half-lidded eyes. Akane wanted to kick her.

However, quick thinking killed the desire before she gave in to the appeal. Her sister may have been family, but Nabiki was a ruthless vindictive bitch above all else, and Akane meant that from the bottom of her sincerest sister-loving heart. She was well aware the Yakuza boss that overruled the underground world of Nerima, Genma Saotome, fondly contacted Nabiki from time to time trying to lure her to his "business." And she had no doubts that her sister will accept the proposition once she graduated from college. The last thing Akane wanted was for her future-Yakuza-sister to hold a grudge against her for a misplaced kick.

Of course, the entire family trembled with fear at the thought of Nabiki joining the Yakuza, but, really, no one had any say in the matter. Akane may have been brave enough to confront her, but not dumb enough to actually do it.

Nabiki had … talent.

_Talent in making a grown man piss in his pants at the mere smell of her._

Nerima University was a rather large institution, schooling ninety percent of all the students in the region. Though not the top in the country, it was a reputable university known mostly for its physical education program offering martial arts courses. The student body ranged from those fresh out of high school to adults returning to either finish college education or to gain another degree. These college students were the future of Nerima.

In other words, this university was the center of Nerima where everyone was connected and conducted business. And the person holding the ambrosia in the middle of it all was Nabiki with her, literally, underground gambling rings in the basements of the school, not to forget her list of blackmails and money pyramids with a yearly interest of ten percent. So logically, Nabiki had, unknowingly, a good hold of the future of Nerima.

Contrary to popular belief, Nabiki did not bring in loads of cash for the family, enough to keep them comfortable, but not to make them filthy stinkin' rich. That would only attract the feds and put them in loads of trouble. She effectively kept the cash flow running in a cycle among her many clients and victims in school so that there was a rather even balance at all times. It kept everybody relatively on safe grounds. As long as she kept her business within the university borders, the Saotome boss had no qualms and left her at peace – for the moment.

But that did not explain why Akane had to tutor their son, Ranma.

"Why do _I_ have to teach that boy?" She asked.

"Because, _I_ have no time to teach that spoiled bastard, and _you_ obviously have the academic brains in the family," Nabiki shrugged making her way to the door.

"What do _I_ gain from this?"

Nabiki let out an annoyed raspy sigh and rested her hands on her hips. "Well, I was planning on giving you some of the cash to buy yourself a new computer that you've been pining over."

She didn't know whether she wanted to hug Nabiki or strangle her.

After all, if Akane was going to do _all_ the work tutoring the boy, shouldn't she get _all_ the cash for herself?

"But I don't even know him," She cried after her sister who was already out the door.

"So?"

The door slammed shut.

"I'd rather gauge my eyes out and eat raw liver than sit with Nabiki Tendo."

Ryouga sighed for the hundredth time that day resisting the urge to smash his fist into Ranma's face. From the moment they entered the campus and during their morning classes, Ranma had done nothing but whine and gripe about the she-devil named Nabiki. Having nothing to do for two hours till their next class, the two boys lounged in the shade under a large tree in between campus buildings. Though they were isolated from the rest of the student body, couples sat nearby on the benches sharing lunches and small talk. A group of pretty girls walked by, eyeing the two flirtatiously and giggling coyly.

Any other day, Ranma would've playfully invited them to accompany him; however, today was not such a day. With a dark gloomy cloud storming over his head called Nabiki, he sulked in the shade with his back to the tree trunk…alone. It was a dreary day, indeed.

"Stop bitching," Ryouga tried to reason, "You only have to spend one hour with her a day and pretend to learn something."

"One hour with the devil," Ranma reflected, "well, I've had worse before I suppose." He scowled and absently tossed a pebble in the air. "Granted she's not hard on the eyes, but that holier-than-thou attitude, that … that grating smirk, and that pompous voice makes me want to wrap my fingers around her neck and _squeeze_." He mimed the action as his hands grabbed at air.

"Endearing, really," Ryouga remarked.

"She's the most manipulative, deceptive, vain, heartless, lethal, shady, unpleasant person I've ever met!" As an afterthought, he added, "And I've met a lot of cold-blooded killers!"

A snort sounded from behind them, "Gosh, Saotome, you say that like it's a bad thing." They spun around to see the devil herself, standing on the other side of the tree leaning on the trunk. She turned her body to fully face him and give him a grating smirk.

"Tendo." Ranma grumbled.

"Saotome." Nabiki answered.

"Hibiki." Ryouga tossed in.

He was ignored.

"So, I guess this rules out the teacher-student love affair, eh?" She grinned baring her pearly whites. "Shame."

"What do you want, wench?" Ranma asked bluntly.

"Pet names, already?" She raised an eyebrow, "Just wanted to tell you that the first lesson will be today at six, lover. Wear something…" She eyed him slowly, "…nice."

He gave her the cold shoulder, turning his back to her. "Only if you promise not to show up."

"Tempting, Saotome," her voice grew faint as she walked away, "… tempting."

As soon as she disappeared behind a building, Ranma threw his hands in his hair, scratching his scalp vigorously. "She's such a … such a…. gggrrrrr!"

"Grrr?" Ryouga asked.

"**Grraaarrrr**!"

"Come on, Tarzan," Ryouga pulled him from under the tree, "we have class to attend."

"I'll see you all next week," the professor smiled ending the session for the day.

Students murmured and bustled out of their seats, gathering up their belongings and rushing out the auditorium doors.

Akane stood up from her chair and raised her arms in the air stretching languorously. Covering up a yawn with the back of her hand, she twisted around to wake up her friend still dozing in her seat.

"Let's go, Yuka," she sighed, "class is over." Getting a mumbled response, she rolled her eyes and patted her friend on the arm, shaking the huddled form for extra measure. "Wakey wakey! You can go sleep in your dorm room."

The girl moaned loudly, standing up with jerky motions like a puppet on strings. "It was such a nice dream, Akane," Yuka whined and peeped at the blue haired girl through hazy sleep-ridden eyes.

"All dreams come to an end," she shrugged and smiled harmlessly.

Yuka clucked her tongue, eyeing Akane skeptically. "Just because you don't dream doesn't mean you don't have any," she retorted and rushed to catch up.

Akane threw her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door. She looked back at Yuka with a grin, "I never said I don't have dreams, only that they come to an – oof!"

Standing at the doorway, she looked up at the figure blocking the path and opened her mouth to apologize.

"Watch it, girlie!"

She snapped her mouth shut and glared at the boy before her. "I beg your pardon?" He brusquely stepped past her, leaving her to glare draggers at his back. She absently noted a small pigtail hanging from the back of his head.

"Whatever," he mumbled under his breath.

She ignored his fanged friend who seemed to be staring at her, and rhetorically asked, "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" The boy took the bait and froze mid-step. Slowly he turned around regarding her with cold blue eyes.

_Ah-ha_, Akane thought victoriously, _a mama's boy_.

He stepped closer to be face to face with her, and she vaguely felt her bangs flutter as he growled out, "Didn't your mother teach you that girls should be seen and not heard?"

"No," she seethed, "I wasn't raised on 18th century principles!"

A calloused hand shot in between them. Using one hand to push the pigtailed boy away and the other held in front of Akane as a peace-offering, the friend with tiny fangs and forest green eyes smiled at her with an unspoken apology.

"I'm Ryouga," he grinned charmingly.

Akane couldn't help but smile back, shaking his hand, "Akane."

"You're gonna have to excuse my asshole of a friend," Ryouga motioned to the other boy who had already taken a seat in the room. "He's had a pretty bad day."

"Whatever," she smirked, chocolate eyes twinkling, "he's gotta learn to cope. Everybody has bad days."

He smiled ruefully, "Ain't that the truth."

Feeling heaps better, Akane began to nudge her way backwards to the door, "Well, I have to go, I'll see you around." She twirled around, strands of her cropped blue hair fanning out in waves. Ryouga was instantly hooked.

"Yeah, see ya," He trailed off watching Akane catch up with a girl and the two walked out of the building. Minutes later, he realized he was still grinning stupidly.

"What's with the stupid grin?"

He scowled at Ranma, sitting back in his chair in a more comfortable position. "I was picturing you getting run over by an ice cream truck," he said instead.

Ranma shrugged, closing his eyes for the rest of the class, "There are worse ways to die."

"I hope he gets run over by an ice cream truck ten times until his every limb falls off and gets eaten by…rabbits!" Akane finished lamely, sitting in the small café with her friends Yuka and Sayuri. The two girls glanced at each other with knowing looks before reaching out to comfort their obviously distressed friend.

"Darling, rabbits are herbivores," Sayuri commented as gently as possible in Akane's volatile state.

"Don't you think you're overreacting," Yuka was perturbed, "you only met him once for the first time."

"NO!" She snapped. "By God, this is the first and last time I hope to ever see him." Taking a sip of her strawberry daiquiri, Akane visibly relaxed from its cool, sweet taste. "Speaking of first times, I have to go tutor Saotome's son today," she groaned pitifully in the crook of her arms resting on the table.

Yuka perked up and looked on with interest. "You will let me know if he's cute, right?" She asked. Her eager question earned a light slap on the shoulder from Sayuri and a dirty glare from Akane.

Akane replied dryly, "Sometimes, I think you're hazardous to your own health, Yuka."

"Imagine," Sayuri paused for effect, "imagine if the son ended up being that guy you had a fight with…" She wiggled her eyebrows glancing from Akane to Yuka and back to Akane.

"Perish the thought."

The three girls giggled and resumed talking about everyday things in their everyday lives. Akane knew both Yuka and Sayuri since first grade. They had inadvertently teamed up against the class bully, who happened to be a boy, and after stuffing him in the trash bin in the school playground, they automatically became best friends.

Yuka Kono was a sweet, light-hearted girl who fell in love everyday with every boy that met her eyes. Her perky ponytail tied high up on her head, swinging to and fro as she walked lightly on her toes, bright hazel eyes drowning the world in their magic, and pink glistening lips spread into a lovely smile, she was as average as they come. Yuka swore to find an amazing love one day that would sweep her off her feet and take her somewhere far away. Akane promised to call the police to file a 'missing person' report if such a thing ever happened in this day and age.

Yuka was somewhat of a basket case. By all means, she wasn't clinically insane, but she wasn't normal either. It seemed as if normal life wasn't enough for all the excitement contained in her small frail body. She dreamed of knights, white horses, dragons, griffons, and fairies. She wanted reincarnated loves, magic spells, love triangles, evil warlords, sword-wielding samurais, and groundbreaking martial artists. All she got was a dog named Spike that she had to walk two times a day, and one younger sister, Yura, who she had to walk three times a day.

Although the Kono family still resided in Nerima, after much begging and threatening, her parents allowed her to stay at the college dorm as long as she promised to visit her home everyday. And visit she did. Akane wondered if the girl ever spent more than one hour in her dorm room. Though Yuka's parents weren't rich, they had enough to support themselves and the dorm room that Yuka rarely slept in. Thus, the three girls merely used that room as a private hang out area where they stayed to escape from anything that was bothering them at home.

Sayuri Tanaka had only two friends, Akane and Yuka. She had kept the same hair style since first grade, short brown hair cut below her jaw line and straight bangs running across her forehead. Her clear and moist green eyes were the only telltale signs of whatever emotions ran rampant in her mind, hidden behind her stoic disposition. To any stranger, she appeared to be a bore with her monotone voice and slow graceful gestures as if she moved in water. However, her two friends knew her to be a girl rather driven by passion and love for her family.

Her parents were both deceased from a tragic car accident years ago and her only older brother had disappeared from the car wreck never to be found and announced dead by default years later. She was seven. Until she was old enough, Sayuri and her siblings were under the custody of their grandmother, and during the end of high school, her grandmother passed away leaving her with the only other two living family members – her younger sister, Sera, and younger brother, Ryunsuke.

With the help of Akane during freshmen year of college, Sayuri successfully rented a small apartment off campus where she stayed with her two siblings, now attending high school. The sudden responsibility of maintaining and supporting a family in a rented apartment forced her to obtain two part time jobs to work during any free time she had from classes. Freshmen year with classes and two jobs proved to be so overwhelming that Akane and Yuka often took her place at Sayuri's work or provided all the classroom notes she had missed for oversleeping.

Just when she was about to give up and quit college altogether, a mysterious package was dropped off at her doorstep, and when it was opened, piles of cash fell on her lap, hundreds and close to a thousand. No one knew who it was from or why it was given to her, but not about to kick a gift horse in the mouth, she took the money no questions asked. Ever since, the package would be dropped off monthly, and Sayuri would silently take it in, grateful for her guardian angel. Yuka complained about her lack of a similar guardian angel, but tearfully hugged Sayuri's good fortune, genuinely happy for her friend.

The three stood at the corner waving and saying their good-byes.

"If I were you," Yuka began, "I'd take a kitchen knife with me."

"Yuka!"

"What?" She blinked. "We're talking about the son of a Yakuza boss, here. Who knows what evils he has in mind for you! He could rape you!"

"Egads, Yuka," Akane made a face, "you need to stop watching those J-drama shows."

Sayuri shook her head at her friends' antics and began walking in the direction of her apartment, "Ciao, I gotta go cook dinner!"

She sighed watching Yuka and Sayuri disappear around the corner. "Stupid Nabiki," she mumbled and started her trek to the Saotome estate. _Hopefully I'll come back home alive and in one piece_.

"Curses that Nabiki!" Ranma cried to the heavens as soon as he stepped out of the school building.

"Running out of expletives already?" Ryouga said under his breath while squinting towards the sun.

"Dammit, why can't I just get rid of her?"

"Because your father would be terribly upset at losing his future secretary." _Translation: Genma Saotome would be stark raving mad enough to maul his own son._

"So? He can always find another one…" _Translation: I'd like to see him try!_

"Maybe." _Translation: He'll wipe the floor with your ass._

"Feh." _Translation: Feh._

They spent the rest of the walk home in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Actually, Ranma _did_ run out of expletives for Nabiki, and Ryouga didn't want to ruin the first peaceful silence he's had the whole day. As they strolled on the sidewalk, a long black limousine stopped next to them drawing their attention. A black window slid down to reveal a familiar face.

"Ranma, my boy, heading home?"

With an emotionless nod, he answered, "Yes, father."

Genma smirked, "Your mother tells me you're getting a tutor today."

Silence.

"Make sure you treat the Tendo girl well," he said behind the rising window. Once the window was shut, the limo drove off leaving the two boys in the dust.

"Bastard."

"Yeah," Ryouga muttered, "he could have offered us a ride home."

"Let's go," Ranma spat with distaste.

They had taken one step forward when a petite girl with shoulder length black hair tripped and fell on her knees in front of them. Still on the ground, she brought her head up sheepishly, a small shy smile on her face. Her pretty blue eyes quivered nervously, glistening in the sun, and her long eyelashes fluttered as she gazed up at Ranma.

Ryouga scoffed, standing on the sideline.

Muttering a few apologies, she attempted to stand up without mooning the streets in her short pink skirt. Ranma threw on a roguish grin and bent down to help her. He bared his flawless teeth, giving her a scandalous wink, and tossed his head back to sweep the bangs from his eyes. She swooned.

"Are you okay, miss?" He stood up smoothly, holding her hand.

"Uh yes, thank you," she blushed becomingly. Dusting her skirt down, she bowed her head modestly and rushed past them down the street.

He watched her, and then looked down at his fisted hand. Upon opening it, Ryouga noticed a folded piece of paper resting on Ranma's palm.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Ranma nodded absently and unfolded the paper where, indeed, a name and phone number was scribbled hastily.

Ryouga coughed back a laugh. He knew exactly what was going to happen. Ranma would snort, rip it in half, and toss it in the wind. He waited.

Ranma snorted, ripped it in half, and tossed it in the wind.

"Now, where were we?"

When they arrived home, the entire property was being cleaned, dusted, and re-arranged. Nodoka stood on the veranda ordering maids and servants here and there, telling them where to place the furniture and where to scrub extra hard. Hanging lanterns of various colors decorated the edges of the roof all around the house and spread out through the gardens. Sakura petals drifted in the breeze tickling his face. Ranma scratched the back of his head.

"Spring cleaning?" He took a shot in the dark.

"No, dear," his mother said distracted from her work, "your tutor will be here any minute. Go upstairs and change into something more… appropriate." She turned away from him to address two waiting maids.

"All this for a stupid tutor?" He squawked spreading his arms wide. "And what's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" Ranma glanced down at his jeans and T-shirt. When he received no response from the Saotome matriarch, he gave a defeated sigh and dragged himself up the stairs to change. Ryouga wisely made himself invisible somewhere in the house doing whatever a personal bodyguard does…guard something.

Akane gawked at the large stone wall surrounding the Saotome property and up at the tall daunting black gates that were at the moment closed. _Wow_, she mouthed. She half expected the gates to open up with teeth and swallow her. The gates opened, and she was relieved to see no teeth.

A young woman wearing a plain grey kimono bowed in a ninety degree angle keeping her eyes on the ground. With a soft voice, she spoke, "Welcome, this way, please." Taking small brisk steps, she scurried to the side of the stone walkway, leaving Akane to stroll in the middle.

Akane wish for an extra pair of eyes to take in every picturesque landscape the Saotome estate had to offer. The large traditional Japanese mansion encircled by sakura and morning glory trees created a serene and exotic atmosphere, and she found herself wishing to live in a house exactly like this one.

Once they arrived at the front, the maid scuttled away to the side, leaving Akane to cry out after her. Uncomfortably, she fidgeted from foot to foot wondering what she was supposed to do. _Duh, stupid, ring the doorbell._ After smacking herself on the forehead, Akane pressed the small round button.

The door swung open moments later, and a sinking feeling of deja vu overwhelmed Akane's frozen form. A boy with that silly pigtail and icy eyes was yelling over his shoulder, his hands still holding the door.

"Twenty-something goddamn servants in this house, and _I_ have to open the stupid door!"

An indignant feminine voice drifted from somewhere inside, "Watch your language, young man!"

He rolled his eyes towards the person standing in front of the door.

He blinked.

"YOU!"

Akane had the grace to blush. "Uh, is this the Saotome residence?"

He stared at her deadpanned, "No, it's the great Wizard of Oz."

She stared, unsure of how to react without getting her head chopped off.

After an impatient sigh, he moved to close the door, "Click your heels three times and head on home, girlie."

"I would love to, but I'm here to —"

"Why are you here?" He interrupted before narrowing his eyes. "Are you stalking me?"

She snorted unattractively, "Don't flatter yourself."

He opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, or whatever he could spare from it, before a middle-aged woman appeared from behind him. Akane found her to be extremely pretty with soft brown hair done in an elegant bun, wearing a white kimono decorated with Sakura petals.

"You must be Akane Tendo, Ranma's new tutor," Nodoka smiled and patted Ranma on the shoulder.

Akane's mouth spread into a sickeningly sweet dimpled grin, "Yes, ma'am."

Ranma fell to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh woeth me, out of over xxx number of readers only 6 had the heart to leave reviews. But I'm not complaining :D

Haha, my responses are at the bottom…

This chapter was made possible by "Veronique" by Pink Martini.

* * *

**Possession**

By Sodalicious

**Chapter 2**

Neon lights outshined the stars, lining the streets to attract overworked 'salary men' to parlors, bars, nightclubs, and sex hotels like moth to flame. In an extravagant penthouse overlooking the Ginza district, Genma Saotome lounged in the shadows on a leather sofa wearing nothing but a single black satin robe draped over his shoulders, opened, leaving the rest of his body naked to the world.

Elaborate maroon-red, olive-green, and indigo-blue murals of dragons, mountains, roaring seas with crashing waves, flowers and gang insignias were tattooed onto the front of his torso, wrapping around his back, covering his arms to the elbow and down his leg to mid-calf. Though still as a statue at the moment, when he moved, the drawings came to life, changing, rearranging, shifting, dancing, and telling the story of Genma Saotome.

Smooth jazz crooned from the sound system, the sax mingled with a raspy male voice singing the love for a prostitute named Veronique.

A wall of large glass window panes offered him the view of sleeping buildings, bustling streets, flickering lights, and flashing billboards. His unblinking eyes fixed on a point directly in front of him, only the movement of his hand carrying a cigar from the armrest to his mouth disturbed the stillness of the spacious room.

In the dark, illuminated only by the glow of city lights, a silhouette of curves and smooth skin moved leisurely about the room. Blood red high heels left small circular impressions on the beige carpet as the shapely figure baring every inch of milk creamy skin slinked over to the obese man sitting on the sofa. Soft white hands with perfectly manicured crimson nails slithered over his shoulders and loosely around his neck. Pouting cherry lips brushed his aged cheek before pulling away, unhurriedly, even as he sat unflinching, still staring out the window, smoking.

The lithe figure stretched cat-like and luxuriously as a soft sigh escaped her parted lips. She bent down to pick up a Chinese dress made of red satin and embroidered with gold threads to form twin dragons down the length of the apparel. Slipping it over her head, the dress spilled down her form like waves of water. Silky violet hair brushed against her thigh, exposed by the high slit of her dress.

She slid into a loveseat and began to retouch her makeup using the glitzy billboard outside the window as her source of light.

Xian Pu, at the young age of 23, was every man's fantasy, the heart of all sinful dreams, and the embodiment of erotica. Her mother back in China, who she left at the age of 12, believed Xian Pu was a receptionist for a businessman named Shiro Watanabe, and she had no intentions of telling her mother otherwise.

She had been 12, growing up in a withering village of Amazons, struggling to survive in this oppressive modern world. Food was hard to come by and hunting was sanctioned by the government with strict rules. Being a village that prospered solely on natural resources, they lacked money to pay for clothing and materials at distant markets once resources became depleted or restricted. Many of her people packed their things and left in search for a better life, and the population soon dwindled to mere tens of families.

Xian Pu was playing in the woods with one of her childhood friends, a boy with coke-bottle glasses and long black tresses. She had been in the middle of tackling him to the ground, giving him a mouthful of dirt, when strange men wearing black suits and black sunglasses arrived at her village. They came with promises of respectable jobs in the outside world that offered good pay and housing. She had volunteered immediately, eager to help out her family, and a day later, a group of young girls, including herself, left their homes and apprehensively entered the new world.

Coming to a strange country with completely different cultures and language, the young Chinese girls found themselves slaving away at bars, restaurants, and nightclubs. Those days, though strenuous and grueling, had been rewarded with less than minimal pay. However, the dutiful daughters proudly sent their meager earnings to families waiting back in China with hopes for a new and better future for their loved ones.

Not too long after their stay, the girls were transferred to an entirely different area of work in which they learned of their true purpose for being shipped to this country. It was no surprise when they were told to wear revealing and coquettish costumes and forced to comply with sexual favors.

They were captives in the Yakuza prostitution rings.

Unable to go back to their home land, young girls in their teens wrote to their families fabricating stories of lives they had been promised but deceived. Xian Pu, stopped writing altogether, refusing to lie. She sent a portion of her earnings and nothing more. She had long since put the past in the past. As a fighter she was taught the importance of adapting to new environments and new situations. Thus, she made the best of her circumstance and kicked and clawed her way to the top – head mistress of Genma Saotome, _oyabun_ (father-figure) of Nerima.

He liked it when she called him _oyabun_ in bed, she thought cynically.

One day… one day, she vowed, she will escape this ring of hell.

She left the hotel room.

…

Akane knew from the beginning that Yuka was over-reacting. The Yakuza wasn't what it used to be. Sure, they were still a lethal syndicate of ruthless business tycoons, loan-sharks, pimps, political leaders, drug dealers, and more. But they weren't mindless assassins out to snuff every tutor within the vicinity.

With the ever changing world, they too evolved to more civilized actions and low-key violence. Which was another way of saying, they found wicked stealthy lawyers to advise them in order to keep their dirty deeds away from the eyes of the law.

In fact, for the past few years, many of the gangs under the Yakuza had been struggling in their own war against each other over power and city turfs. At the same time, a new generation of young hoodlums was bent on overthrowing the old, long established, families or clans of the Yakuza Empire in different parts of Japan.

Akane wasn't an avid follower of crime news, so she had no actual knowledge if someone was trying to take over the Saotome clan in Nerima. Not that she cared.

Her first and only concern was Ranma Saotome sans the Yakuza.

The first tutoring session had been awkward, to say the least. Lots of unnecessary but unavoidable silence took up most of the time. Thick and heavy tension was condensed enough to sink in water, and time slowed to an agonizing crawl, the crawl of a man in the Sahara after days of no water, with vultures picking at his posterior cheeks.

After 59 minutes of breathing, blinking, and other involuntary bodily functions, Akane stood up to leave. In the span of the last protracted minute left, they had listed the textbooks required and had gone over a schedule which ended up being eight o'clock everyday, except for Wednesdays when he had soccer practice, being the captain and all, and she coincidentally had volunteer work at the local hospital.

She all but ran out of the room.

But in the end, she stepped out of the Saotome property, unharmed and, evidently, un-raped, much to the relief of Yuka who had been waiting the whole time for Akane's "I'm un-raped!" phone call.

Their second rendezvous, however…

"I'm the tutor, here, which means we do things _my_ way," Akane spat standing a foot away from him.

"This is my house which means we do things _my_ way," Ranma countered.

"Not if you want to pass your classes!"

He opened his mouth ready to spew out more hogwash, like everything else that came out of his mouth in Akane's generous opinion. But he ended up saying nothing, closing his mouth and turning away as if he couldn't stand the sight of her.

Which wasn't really any fault of his.

She wasn't exactly idol material. Boyishly cropped hair, common brown eyes, peach-shaped face, and a small yet _healthy_ figure didn't particularly scream "sex goddess." It didn't help that she wore a plain white t-shirt and regular baby blue sweatpants, while Mr. Lothario donned a classy red dress shirt (with the first three buttons loosened _of course_), sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and freshly pressed black trousers stretched down his long legs.

Well, she thought defensively, nobody told him to get all prettied up for her little ol' self.

That was entirely his own doing. She wasn't about to wear cocktails dresses and stiletto shoes to teach him History 101.

Akane deflated with a gush of air. Looking almost apologetic, she slumped tiredly, "Okay, let's start over. I'm Akane Tendo from Nerima University concentrating in pre-law."

He looked at her, uninterested.

"How kind of you to ask, why yes, I do hope to be a lawyer one day. I'm hard pressed between Intellectual Property and Criminal. Though, perhaps after this, criminal law would appear to be more suitable?"

His gaze wandered around his room.

"Oh, you're undecided? That's fascinating."

He reached under his bed and took out a comic book.

"Why, no, I haven't realized how much of an ass you really are, but thanks for telling me."

Skimming the pages, he frowned remembering that he had read it three times before.

"Well, you know, you can get that stick in your ass removed at any local hosp—"

"You talk too much," he finally spoke in his infinite wisdom.

Truth be told, Akane wished he would talk more. While there was only so much she could say about herself, he was part of a major crime enterprise of Japan, as infamous as the Italian Mafia. As a member of the Yakuza, he probably had a plethora of information and stories to share.

She observed him as he idly fingered his pigtail.

Then again, she could be sorely mistaken.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself," she pressed.

He mulled over her suggestion with much consideration before agreeably answering, "No."

Powerless against the inert human-shaped rock dubbed as Ranma, she threw her hands up in a sign of defeat. "Fine, we'll just skip the small talk and get straight to business." She paused, perchance giving him a last fleeting opportunity to say otherwise. "Okay, open up your Calculus II book to page 10."

Her fingers drummed the tabletop.

She watched, with mounting agitation, his long fingers flipped the pages of the book sheet by sheet from the unnumbered cover page, to the table of contents page, to another blank cover page, through eight pages of introduction, to page zero. Then finally, after another five flips, he unveiled page 10.

"Are you finished?" She managed through clenched teeth.

He merely gestured to the page number, written in bold black, and he tersely replied, "10."

"I guess that answers my next question," she looked at him in mock surprise, "you _do_ know how to read numbers."

Ranma heaved a huge sigh before purposefully meeting her eyes, and suddenly, she felt extremely juvenile. She had meant to apologize, but he beat her to the punch. "Look, I'm sorry for being –"

"An ass," she filled in, reverting back to her 'juvenile' mentality.

"—difficult," he corrected. "And while I'm ecstatic that's it you and not Nabiki sitting in my room, I'd rather not be here doing this, at all." He leaned back against the side of his bed, throwing his head back onto the mattress. Seconds later, he lifted his head from the bed to regard her with much less callousness since the moment they met.

Akane studied his face briefly before concluding that he was being sincere, and she shrugged casually, "That's fair." Hesitantly, she smiled genuinely at him, "after all, who wants to be cooped up in some room when you could be enjoying the night air, right?"

He blinked at her.

She wondered if she said something offensive.

"You're pretty when you smile." He said it with such unfathomable wonder that she couldn't decide whether to be bashful or rightfully insulted. She chose neither.

"As groundbreaking as that may seem, it has nothing to do with Calculus," she pointed to his book, tapping her finger on a paragraph. "Let's start here." So intent was she on getting into study-mode that she completely missed the small side smirk he directed towards her bent head.

Had she seen it, she might've blushed and sat further away from the pigtailed boy.

It was the last question, and it was, for lack of a better word, a bitch to solve. Despite Ranma's prodding to check the answer given at the end of the lesson, Akane stubbornly insisted on solving it on their own before looking at the answer. She crawled on her hands and knees to his side, and together they buried themselves in numbers, equations, and formulas. A minute ticked by.

"Forget it!" He cried out exasperated, "I give up!"

She ignored him, her eyes still locked on the problem given in the book. Eyes opened but unseeing, she worked out possible solutions in her head as she absently tapped her finger on the table. Her head was bowed over the table and a lock of soft navy hair fell from the back of her ear, curtaining her face.

Ranma watched her unnoticed. In what he later called a temporary-lapse-of-judgment, his hand reached up and tucked her short curled hair behind her ear, giving him a clear view of her eyes. He wanted to smile at her shell-shocked expression. Instead, he withdrew his hand and returned his attention to the math problem.

She motioned to speak but a knock on the door interrupted her, followed by Ryouga's voice.

"Mrs. Saotome wants to remind you that the lesson ended 30 minutes ago."

Akane jumped to her feet from her spot next to Ranma. "Oh my God!" She hastily stuffed materials into her bag, tossing things in carelessly.

"You can come in, Ryouga," Ranma yawned.

She paused at the familiar name, "Ryouga?"

"Akane?" The fanged boy from school looked just as shocked seeing her in Ranma's room. "_You're_ his tutor?"

She didn't know why, but she blushed, "Uh, yeah."

"Wow," he scratched the back of his head, "if I had known, I would've come sooner."

"For what?" Ranma asked with a raised eyebrow.

"To study with you guys."

"But you already passed these classes," Ranma reminded him.

"So?" Ryouga crossed his arms and shifted to an obstinate stance.

"So, why would you sit through something you already know?" Cobalt eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"To re-educate myself."

"Re-educate my ass."

"Gladly!" Ryouga cracked his knuckles ready to duke it out with the pigtailed boy who was already adopting a loose fighting stance.

Ranma only smirked, a black shadow seeping into his irises.

"I am _not_ impressed," Akane interjected flatly. She nimbly stepped in between them. "As flattered as I am that you idiots are ready to butt heads for me, the impending matter here is that I'm late and, worse, _I'm tired_. Carry on your macho testosterone-fueled drivel some other time. " And she exited the room.

The two energized boys fizzled down and blinked at each other.

Meanwhile, Akane slowed her gait as she approached the Saotome living room. A single paper lantern swayed in the breeze from an open window. Alone in the dim hallway, she stood facing the closed sliding door. She vacillated, unable to decide if she should announce her departure to Mrs. Saotome or depart like a thief in the night. A maid rounded the corner and made the decision for her.

"Oh, Ms. Tendo, is there a problem?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No! Uh, not at all," she stuttered, "I was just about to take my leave." Spinning on her heel, she moved towards the front door.

"Akane?" Nodoka's voice escaped through the paper screen of the sliding door.

"Yes!" She spun again on her heel, changing her trajectory straight back to the living room. She entered feeling absurdly fretful. Akane kneeled on the floor and bowed politely when a maid poured her a cup of tea. Customarily, she took a sip before smiling with appreciation at Nodoka.

"You have two older sisters," Mrs. Saotome continued after Akane's nod, "I've already spoken to Nabiki, but the other, the oldest, is Kasumi, right? How are they doing?"

"They're great," she supplied, "Nabiki is looking into Graduate school to study for her Masters in business, and Kasumi just recently got engaged to the family practitioner. I'm sure you know him, everybody knows him, Dr. Tofu."

"Ah, yes," Nodoka happily clasped her hands to her chest, "how wonderful! And your father?"

"My father?" Akane asked.

"Yes. Soun, Soun Tendo."

The notion that Mrs. Saotome knew her father on a first name basis blew her mind away. "Well, it's been six years since… since my mother passed away, and he's still in mourning," Akane bit her bottom lip, "but, other than that, he's healthy and comfortable."

Nothing else was said, and Akane squirmed under Nodoka's gaze. Was she supposed to just get up and leave? Or wait for permission to leave? She had trouble meeting the woman's stare.

_Is there something on my face?_

Akane cleared her throat, "umm…"

Mrs. Saotome started, woken from a dream. "Oh, dear, how rude of me…" She laughed lightly.

"No, it's alright…" she mumbled.

"It's just that… you look exactly like her," Nodoka sighed, her eyes searching Akane's face again. "A splitting image."

Stunned, and more than freaked out, Akane asked, "Like who?" Of course, she already knew who she looked like, 21 years of resembling another person then someone's bound to say _something_. But she couldn't imagine how Mrs. Saotome knew. Perhaps the woman simply wanted to compare her to some pop idol as a compliment.

"Your mother, Hitomi Tendo."

Seeing Akane's trouble with forming words, Nodoka answered the silent question.

"We were best friends since high school, your mother and I, but somewhere between college and getting married we lost contact." The middle aged woman bowed her head, deep in thought and lost in her past.

Akane was still silently opening and closing her mouth.

"Well, I don't want to keep you out so late. Hurry on home before your father sends out a search party." Nodoka winked at the catatonic girl.

Mumbling goodbye and bowing incessantly, Akane stumbled out of the room and burst out of the house. Cicadas sang in nearby trees, and a dog could be heard barking blocks away. Only one or two people wandered in the streets. She inhaled the night air and closed her eyes blissfully.

It wasn't a very far walk from the Saotome's to her home, but it gave her enough time to ponder past events.

The fact that Mrs. Saotome was best friends with her mother only increased her uneasiness. Not just acquaintances, not just classmates, but best friends. That meant they had to be close, almost like sisters. But her mother, Hitomi Tendo, had never mentioned a person by the name of Nodoka, or anybody with the surname, Saotome.

Actually, Akane realized, her mother never mentioned anything of her past except for how she fell in love at first sight with Soun Tendo during a school festival. Other than that, her own deceased mother was a mystery to her. Who was Hitomi Tendo, and why didn't any of the Saotome family members, specifically Nodoka, attend her mother's funeral?

Despite the lack of wind, a chill ran down her spine and she rubbed her bare arms, feeling goosebumps rise on her forearms. Instinctually, she quickly looked around the street and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she rushed home.

Down the street, a black luxury sedan was parked on the side. Behind the black tinted window, age-old cloudy blue eyes followed the slender figure of the girl hurrying home. The eyes widened as it caught her face when she unwittingly looked in the direction of the car. Oblivious of beady eyes glued to her every move, she hastened her pace.

Genma Saotome signaled to the chauffer, and with its headlights turned off, the sleek car drove after her, from a safe unnoticeable distance.

Akane sighed with relief at the sight of her house when she turned at the corner. Warm lights spilling from the inside, she had never seen a more inviting sight. Her stride faltered on her way up the steps to the front door, and her ears twitched. She stood with a rigid back, still facing the door, but all her attention was concentrated on her ears and whatever sounds she picked up. Something was out of place.

A black car turned the corner onto her street.

She slid her key into the lock.

The car drew closer to her house.

She twisted the key with a _click_.

The car slowed to almost a stop in front of her wooden gate.

She opened the door, light from within spilling forth brightly in the night.

Revving up its engine, the car passed her house and continued down the block.

She entered her home and kept her eyes on the back of the vehicle the whole time.

Akane closed the door behind her pensively. She read the clock hanging on the wall. The hands read 10:30.

_Why didn't the car have its headlights on?_

She shrugged ambling further into her home, and she immediately took in the sounds emerging from different rooms. Running water in the kitchen told her that Kasumi was washing the dishes, she heard a game show on the television that her father watched every night, and by default, she knew Nabiki was cooped up in her room conducting "business." Akane couldn't stop a smile from spreading with the joy of being home. As beautiful as the Saotome estate was, it lacked the warmth and sounds of a real family house. She started for the stairs greeting her sister and father on her way up.

"Akane?"

She halted on the stairs and turned towards the sliding door that hid her father from her view. "Daddy?" She called in return, and she hopped down to enter the living room.

Her father, Soun Tendo, sat on the tatami mat, a pipe resting on his mustached lips. The volume of the television was lowered to a hum, and the scent of mosquito repellant incense filled the room. He motioned for her to sit in front of him.

"Did you go to Saotome's today?"

She nodded shifting to a more comfortable position on the floor.

"I trust they treated you well?"

"Of course, daddy," she smiled. "Why wouldn't they?"

He tapped his pipe thoughtfully and hummed as he rubbed his chin. "What do you think of their son?"

She was taken aback by the question but answered as honestly as possible, "He's alright. A typical normal jerk." She grinned as her father chuckled at her response.

"Have you met Genma Saotome?"

Akane laughed, "Come on, daddy. Genma Saotome? Meeting him is as impossible as shaking hands with the Emperor of Japan." She brightened as another thought came to her. "But I've met his mother!"

"Ah, yes, lovely woman."

She feigned surprise. "You know her?"

"Ah," he affirmed, "and Genma, too." He puffed a few times into his pipe. After a moment of silence, Akane thought he would tell her more of how he knew them, but he simply bid her goodnight and shooed her to bed. Looking back at her father oddly, she left for the stairs once more, filing away newly learned information.

_How did mom and dad know Nodoka and Genma?_

"_We were best friends since high school…"_

_That's right!_ Mrs. Saotome had said that. But… what happened?

Akane knew exactly who could fill in the blanks. The hard part was getting the said person to talk without having to sacrifice an arm and a leg.

As luck and irony would have it, Nabiki came strolling into her room, airily skipping formalities such as knocking.

"Sometimes, Nabiki," she drawled to her sister who sat primly on Akane's bed with her legs crossed, "I'm convinced you're not human."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Nabiki shrugged. "But, I'm not here to discuss my divinity. I want to know how your tutoring went."

Nabiki never asked. She demanded.

"It went well," Akane wondered if she should elaborate. At her sister's less than satisfied expression, she expanded further, "the subjects we have to go over aren't hard. I figure, he failed them not because of his fathomless stupidity but because of his laziness." A deriding snort from the other party made her grin. "Like Calculus II, he knew most of the things like this one problem –"

"Did he say anything weird to you?"

"What?" Her train of thought came to an abrupt standstill.

"Tell me the things he said to you."

"_What_?"

"For example, 'Hi, I'm Ranma and I'm an imbecile. I slaughtered nine people the other day with my bare hands and came out unscratched. Yeah baby, I _sizzle_.' That sort of thing," Nabiki ended.

"He murdered nine people with his bare hands?" Akane asked thunderstruck.

"Tell me what he told you."

"He didn't say anything like that." She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and chewed on her bottom lip. Nabiki's eyes narrowed. "Well," Akane averted her gaze to the corner of the room, "he did say that I'm c-cute when I smile." She blushed becomingly.

"Did he…"

Akane nodded.

"You talked with his mother."

She nodded again.

"What did she tell you?"

This time Akane narrowed her eyes at her sister in suspicion, "She told me that she was our mother's best friend from high school." Nabiki looked out the window, and Akane decided to add, "And daddy just told me that he knew Ranma's parents in a more personal way. And something tells me, Nabiki, that you already knew all this."

The silence stretched from seconds to minutes.

"Well, you know by now that our parents and Ranma's parents were close friends," Nabiki said offhandedly, "but you forget that everybody knows everybody in Nerima, especially Genma, the _oyabun_ of our region. Not to mention, he's third-in-command (_shateigashira_) under the supreme boss of this Yakuza syndicate."

"How the hell did our parents get up close and personal with the _shateigashira_ of the Yakuza!"

Nabiki talked to her slowly, like explaining to a three year old how to turn the telly on, "Every person, even our parents and his parents, started off as a baby. Which means, they attended high school, just like you and me, and they went to college, just like you and me. People meet, and either they become friends or they don't. Our parents did."

She scowled at her older sister. "That really wasn't the answer I was looking for."

Nabiki shrugged, "Life isn't perfect. Live with what you got." She stood up, terminating their 'family talk,' and made her way to the door. She was halfway out when she paused. "Akane?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happens, _don't_ fall for Ranma."

And she was gone.

* * *

**AN:**Well, that's all for today folks. Hope that wasn't _too_ confusing. I only introduced one new character, Xian Pu. There are more coming, but I didn't want to overwhelm you with so many new people at once. (Actually I have the third chapter already finished, but I want to tweak it a bit before posting it up.) Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism is always valued. :D 


	3. Chapter 3

I love you, my reviewers! (grin) responses at the bottom…

This chapter was made possible by "Alegria" – Cirque du Soleil

* * *

**Possession**

by Sodalicious

**Chapter 3**

"_Mommy!" A five year old Akane hopped excitedly spotting the tall woman coming in the front door. Bare feet slapped against the floor as she ran to her mother._

_Eight-year-old Kasumi smiled at her baby sister and wordlessly carried the grocery bags to the kitchen. _

"_How's my baby?" Hitomi Tendo bent down to her knees, sweeping her youngest into a snug embrace. Her long thick navy hair fluttered from the impact of Akane's leap into her arms. She pulled away and assessed her daughter's appearance. "Has daddy been training you again?"_

"_Yep!" Akane put some distance between them and demonstrated a sloppy roundhouse kick, teetering at the end on the sole of her foot. "Look!" She repeated the move._

"_Wow! You're much better than mommy!" Hitomi cried and gathered Akane back into a hug. "You're growing up to be such a beautiful girl! And strong, too!" She leaned down and rubbed their noses in an Eskimo kiss. "I'm so proud of you."_

"_Nabiki won't be a beautiful strong girl," Akane said matter-of-factly. Hitomi laughed and asked her why not. Little Akane answered, "because instead of training with me and dad, she stays in her room reading all day. Ew!" Akane cringed and shook her head violently._

_Hitomi tweaked Akane's nose gently. "Nabiki will be a beautiful, smart girl instead." She silently watched Akane and led the girl to the living room. "Akane?"_

_The girl in question plopped down comfortably next to her mother on the floor. "Yes, mommy?"_

"_I want you to remember," Hitomi paused wondering if it was too soon, "just because you can kick or punch doesn't make you strong." Akane stared at her mother blankly. "Strength comes from your heart, and you mustn't let anybody take that away from you. Okay?"_

"_Who's going to take my heart?" Akane asked wide-eyed._

_Hitomi grinned surreptitiously, "Oh, I don't know." Her face turned contemplative again, "Always remember, Akane, you don't belong to anyone, but yourself."_

Life was a funny concept. Some people called it a gift from God, or their mother, depending on their preference for (or against) religion. Others saw it as a bothersome state of drone-like existence composed of follies, ironic tragedies, and inane responsibilities.

To Akane, life was like a box of half-eaten chocolates, and she knew exactly what she was going to get – a half-eaten chocolate.

She sighed, snuggling deeper into her blankets. This was her favorite time of day. The rising sun emitted a soothing white glow into her room, instead of the scorching yellow rays that melted Japan in the afternoon. Waking sparrows chatted outside her window, flying to and fro playfully chasing each other. Her square window framed the clear blue skies spread with whipped cream clouds. Fresh morning air drifted in and brushed against her bangs delightfully, and through it all, she stayed in her warm downy bed, blinking lazily.

_I wouldn't mind eating some of that chocolate right about now_, Akane yawned.

The vile alarm clock rang in its cacophony, filling her with dread and disdain. Huffing like an upset child, she turned and reached out to turn the alarm off. Next to the pig shaped clock, a picture outlined in a gold metal border watched with a familiar secretive smile. Akane smiled back at the woman.

"Morning, mom."

She moseyed down the stairs with her hand whisking through her damp hair. Murmuring voices and clinking of dishes and utensils carried to her ears. A young and pleasant male voice caught her interest, and Akane eagerly bounded down the rest of the steps in a rush into to the dining room.

"Dr. Tofu!"

Her father peeked at her over the rim of the newspaper, and Nabiki quirked an eyebrow at her. But Dr. Tofu and Kasumi answered her just as enthusiastically.

"Good morning, Akane!" He smiled at her fondly in his seat next to her father. "Getting ready for classes?"

Akane nodded absently and helped herself to a bowl of miso soup and greedily piled her plate with slices of buttered toast. Kasumi passed by and ruffled Akane's damp hair affectionately.

"Did you know that Akane is tutoring Saotome's son?" Kasumi asked amusedly at her fiancé. The town doctor looked up from his newspaper with surprise.

"No, I didn't know that," he flipped a page of the paper with some trouble before adding, "I remember when he used to be a regular patient of mine. How is he these days?"

Akane shrugged with her mouth full of warm crispy toast. At the moment, Ranma was the last thing on her mind. She blissfully took a long slow sniff at the warm miso sitting in front of her. Nearby, Nabiki emitted a rude sound.

"You'd think we starved the girl for days with the way she's indulging," the clever sister remarked.

"Ranma's fine from what I can see," Akane replied deftly ignoring her sister. "I really don't know much about him. He's not much for conversation." The two men simultaneously flipped the pages of their newspapers, their eyes glued to the paragraphs. She rolled her eyes. "Men, in general, are not much of conversationalists."

Kasumi finally joined the table next to Dr. Tofu, carrying her own bowl of miso in her hands. "Indeed." She dimpled sweetly at the oblivious man with circular glasses resting at the tip of his nose. "Two months before our wedding and absolutely nothing has changed. I still do most of the talking in our conversations. Really, I don't know why I bother." But the two younger girls knew better than to believe her words at the way her eyes glistened and a pink hue brushed across her delicate nose.

Akane and Nabiki shared a knowing grin.

"Yeah, seriously, Dr. Tofu, you really need to be a bit more aggressive," Nabiki directed at him. They giggled when he remained oblivious of their talk.

"Kasumi is feeling…" Akane exaggerated her thought process, "…_unsatisfied_, if you catch my drift." She wiggled her eyebrows at the unresponsive man. Kasumi gasped, her face a shade of healthy red which she hid behind her hands.

"I think a good _spanking_ is in order, wouldn't you agree, Dr. Tofu?" Nabiki spoke his name louder to catch his attention.

"Hmm? Yes, yes…" He mumbled distractedly from the paper.

The girls burst out laughing.

"I mean, what?" He looked up.

"Never mind them," Soun wisely advised his future son-in-law. "Never mind the talk of foolish women." He folded up his newspaper and placed it on the table. Dr. Tofu soon followed suit.

Akane and Nabiki scowled at their father, and Kasumi merely shook her head in amusement.

"Well, I should get going," Dr. Tofu stood up and respectfully bowed to his father-in-law. "Have a good day at school, Nabiki, Akane." He received noncommittal responses and chuckled under his breath. Kasumi was already up and waiting for him by the door. He walked up to her, a tender smile on his lips. With low muffled voices, they talked lovingly as her hands flitted over his shoulders, fixed his tie and collar, and smoothed down his sleeves. His hands rested gently around her slim waist and fingered her apron strings.

Akane sighed dreamily, her chin nestled in her hands on top of the table.

Nabiki yawned and brought her hand down roughly on the table causing a spoon to fall onto the floor. "Oops! Could you get that for me daddy?"

Soun grumbled and bent down under the table.

Seeing his cue, Dr. Tofu leaned down for a sweet chaste kiss from Kasumi and lingered for as long as he dared. He pulled away just as Soun lifted his head with the spoon in his hands.

"Really, Nabiki," Soun wiggled his mustache as he sniffed, "still dropping things from the dinner table like a three year old?"

"What can I say?" Nabiki shrugged and furtively watched a blushing Kasumi playfully push Tofu out the front door, "I'm still young at heart."

…

_A small boy donned in a tattered white gi burst into his parent's room. His large misty blue eyes roamed the area before falling on a woman sitting in the corner sewing a kimono. She looked up in surprise._

"_Mom!" He rushed to her side and rocked on his heels, a proud grin stretched across his youthful face._

"_What is it, Ranma?" Nodoka smiled and put down the kimono._

"_Look what I just learned from father!" He spun and ran towards one end of the room. A foot away from the wall, he leapt up and ran up two steps on the wall before flipping and performing a sharp round-house kick mid-air. He landed on his feet, his arms proudly forming a "v" above his head. _

_Nodoka clapped heartily, her eyes sparkling admirably at her son. "Amazing! Simply amazing!" She patted the floor next to her and he sat crossed legged, slightly out of breath._

"_Father says I'll be learning even more harder and dangerous things!" He said animatedly. "Then I can protect you!"_

_Nodoka paused and stared into his innocent eyes that have seen too much for his age, smiling sadly, she shook her head softly, "I'm not the one who needs your protection. There's someone else who'll need you more."_

"_Who?" He asked absolutely perplexed._

"_The girl you're going to marry," Nodoka announced with a touch of pride. "She comes from very important family, so you'll have to protect her!"_

"_Ew! I'm going to marry a girl!" He wrinkled his button nose._

_She laughed delightfully. "Of course, you're going to marry a girl! Would you rather marry a boy?" She eyed him playfully._

"_No!" Ranma pouted. "Who is she?"_

"_She's the heir to the Nakamura family, your father's boss," she lowered her voice to a hush as if sharing a big secret. "She's promised, honor-bound, to be your wife. So, you must take good care of her, okay?"_

"_Okay!" He hopped to his feet. "I'll protect her!"_

A knock on the door jarred him from his dream. Rubbing his face roughly, he sat up slowly, bleary eyes blinking about the room. The shades covering his window kept the room relatively dark. Green numbers on his radio read 7:34 am. He groaned loudly, tempted to flop back onto his pillow.

"Ranma, sir, your mother wants to inform you that it's time for school." An anonymous muffled voice traveled through the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up," he stretched out the kinks and knots in his joints. He threw his legs over the side of his bed and placed his feet flatly on the floor. He ran his hands through his hair brusquely and rested his elbows on his knees.

It had been one of those dreams again – the kind that evades the memory once woken up. He had a feeling it involved Ukyo. Most of his dreams centered on her. Slowly over the years, her persistent presence had faded little by little in his mind and dreams, but every now and then, she came back with a vengeance. Almost as if she were a ghost, haunting him just to spite him.

He smirked. _Knowing her, that's exactly what she would do._

He sauntered into the dining room, fixing the collar of his button down shirt that he carelessly shrugged on over his white tee. He staggered in his steps at the sight of his father sitting by the dining table. Trying to hide his surprise, he sat down at the table and greeted his parents.

Nodoka greeted her son lovingly and signaled to a maid to bring in a plate of breakfast for him. Genma, on the other hand, failed to acknowledge Ranma's presence and kept his eyes on the newspaper.

The lamp over the table swung unnoticeably in a non-existent breeze. The silence was almost tangible, deafening to the ears and heavy on the shoulders. Shades of grey enveloped the room as if the silence washed away the colors. Despite the open windows, the room remained dark, shadowed by invisible clouds.

For the next 30 minutes, only the clinking of metal chopsticks and the rustle of the newspaper filled the room. Maids shuffled by dutifully carrying out their morning cleaning. Ranma stared into his bowl as his mother did the same. Randomly, Genma cleared his throat though he said nothing.

Genma folded the paper abruptly and threw it onto the table. He took a long gulp of his cup of tea and addressed Ranma in a monotone, emotionless voice.

"There's been a leak that the Pai Lung gang will raid my pachinko establishment across town tomorrow night. Stake out the area."

He stood up from the table, and Nodoka and Ranma rose from their seats. They remained standing until Genma disappeared from the dining room. Ranma sat back down immediately and resumed eating with much more fervor than before. His mother waited until the sound of Genma's car faded into the distance. She quietly returned to her seat.

"So, I guess I'll be out late tomorrow night," Ranma said idly.

"Be careful, son."

"Yeah, sure," he hesitated. "Do you know why he stayed for breakfast today?"

Nodoka glanced at her son unable to hide the lost expression on her face. "I suppose he wanted to tell you about the gang personally."

Ranma nodded but kept his thoughts to himself.

_Why didn't he just tell one of the servants to tell me like usual?_

Ryouga strolled into the dining room, heartily greeting Mrs. Saotome and amiably smacking Ranma on the back. He settled himself into one of the chairs and looked from Mrs. Saotome to Ranma. "Uh, did I miss something?"

Nodoka smiled, "Mr. Saotome just left the house. He wishes for Ranma to stake one of his pachinko places in town tomorrow. You will keep an eye on him for me, won't you, Ryouga?"

"Of course!" Ryouga grinned, "Can't let this kid go out alone! He'll hurt himself!"

"I didn't know you started talking about yourself in third person," Ranma bit out.

"Har har har," his friend drawled. "Who are we looking for?" When he received no answer, he looked up from his plate and towards the pigtailed boy. "Who?"

Ranma narrowed his eyes, murder in his voice, "The Pai Lung gang."

"Oh," Ryouga fell silent uncomfortably.

"Now, now, boys," Nodoka interrupted, "you know I don't like talking about 'business' over the dinner table." She motioned for the plates to be cleared away. "Why don't you head for school and be on time for once?"

Sheepishly, the two bowed and dashed out of the room.

…

The distance from her house to the university was convenient, especially during morning rush. In the case of high traffic, Akane could easily walk to school in 45 minutes to one hour, depending on her gait. And during off-peak hours, she was able to take the bus and arrive in fifteen minutes. Today, with the sun warming her back and the wind cooling her skin, she felt that walking would suffice.

One downside to walking was thinking. With nothing else to do, the mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts such as… a certain pigtailed boy. Why didn't the mind 'wander' to thoughts of daffodils, ice cream, or _anybody _else but him?

For the past few days, she had learned a lot and yet nothing at all about this young man who called himself Ranma Saotome. Though she knew that he habitually tugged his pigtail when he was aggravated or nervous and that his left eye twitched when he was angry, she knew nothing of his past or current life.

They hardly crossed paths at school since they had such different academic goals, after all. Her, having goals, and him, having none. She bumped into him on her way to the library only once since tutoring began, and he had been lost trying to find the science department for the first time in four years attending the school. Holding back any smart remark, she pointed him to the right direction, and that was that.

Akane entered the air conditioned building, rubbing her bare arms. Many students greeted her with smiles and a nod as she walked by to class. Not that she was popular, but to her utmost irritation, somehow, everybody knew who she was. While several boys chose to stare, turning their head completely when she passed them, she kept her head straight ahead, heedless of the attention she attracted.

It wasn't that she was beautiful. Appealing, yes, but not drop dead gorgeous. And she wasn't the smartest girl on campus. She did well, and made sure to stay above average, however, she wasn't a reclusive who had her nose in books all day.

Simply, there are people who have charisma – an unspoken aura that attract those around them like a magnet. And then there are people who don't – like the loner who sits in the back of the bus with his massive stereo headphones the size of his head listening to tracks of '70s rock, trying to look desperately cool.

Akane had charisma without the need for bulging headphones on the sides of her head. For reasons unknown, people flocked all over her.

She entered the auditorium and winced when the door emitted a loud squeak announcing her presence. As expected, several heads turned and a few "Hey, Akane!" to "Akane!" echoed briefly in the room. She darted to her two friends who were waving their arms in the air as they would in a rock concert.

"Akane!" Yuka cried out, jumping in her seat, "Sayuri and I just thought of the perfect way to get rid of your stalker!"

Akane froze in her seat and her breathing hitched as she remembered the black car hidden in the night. "Wh-who?" She stuttered.

Yuka looked at her friend's odd reaction, "That loser with the massive stereo headphones the size of his head," she turned to Sayuri. "What was his name again? I can never remember."

Sayuri shrugged.

"Oh," Akane heaved a deep sigh pasting on a wan smile, "Gos—Gosun—uh, I can't remember either."

"Well, we thought of a way to be rid of him!"

"How?"

"Tell him you already have a boyfriend!"

Akane stared at her friends deadpanned. "Do you really think he'll have ethical issues stalking me if I had a boyfriend? I didn't know stalkers were so thoughtful of their victims."

"No, you twit," Yuka snapped, "let me finish. Tell him your boyfriend is Ranma Saotome, _the_ Saotome of the Yakuza! _No one_ will mess with you, then."

She stared at her friend wordlessly. She glanced at Sayuri hoping the sensible girl had more _sense_ than this loony. Sayuri opened her mouth to offer some type of advice but found nothing to say.

"What if I'm just really mean to him?" Akane asked at last.

"Like how?" Yuka wanted to know.

"Like - you sicken me. I hope you are eaten by a giant vulture. And that your remains are scattered across Asia by a large ugly condor," she paused, "This, I solemnly wish for in the confines of my dark, brooding, not-attracted-to-you mind."

Yuka and Sayuri fell into a fit of giggles, and Akane joined in moments later.

Ranma felt a rush of air flow down his body as he leaped from one roof to another. A few roofs down, Ryouga kept up the pace with him. It was a real pity that people couldn't fly. Even more of a pity that most people couldn't roof hop. When he closed his eyes, it felt he would jump and soar forever into the never-ending blue. The clouds and the sun were in his reach to grasp and hold on to. If he just stretched his hand out a little more…

He looked down at a figure of a girl walking on the road. He landed on a roof over her short-haired head and peered below, vaguely noticing Ryouga land behind him. He gave out a short whistle, and the girl turned around to look behind her, but didn't look up. Shrugging to herself, she kept walking.

Ranma ignored the disappointment that befell him and stood up dusting his pants.

"You rascal, you," Ryouga teased.

"What?"

"You thought that was Akane, didn't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ranma hurdled to another roof, "Why would I think of her?"

"Oh, so, is stopping on the way to school to whistle at every short-haired girl a normal occurrence for you?"

"I didn't whistle at every short-haired girl!" Ranma cried out, "It was just once!"

"Whatever," Ryouga shrugged carelessly, "The point is you thought that was Akane."

"I did not! The only girl I think of is –" Ranma slowed in his steps on the edge of a roof. Ryouga calmly walked up to him and stood next to him, admiring the puffy white clouds in the light blue backdrop.

"Still?" He prodded gently.

"Not as much as before," Ranma sighed and kicked the tile under his feet. He turned to his friend earnestly, "I just don't want to think about anything. I don't care." Without waiting for a response, he dove for another roof.

"Broken hearts can be mended with time," Ryouga muttered and soon followed after him.

They landed on the roof of their school building and, with the help of a few sturdy trees, they hopped down to the ground, surprising a few people in the area. They walked into the four-story box-shaped building. Inside, students aimlessly roamed the beige hallways discussing "last night's party," and some sat on any flat surface available, eating or talking on their cellphones.

A trademark high-pitched squeal pierced the calm, resembling the sound of sharpened nails on a rusty chalkboard.

"Oh, hell," Ranma muttered.

"Ranma, sir!"

A rather pretty and slender girl with long slim legs to die for and thick black hair up in a graceful ponytail bounded next to him. Her long eyelashes brushed against the skin of her smooth pale cheeks and her aristocratic nose was raised proudly in the air, accentuating her white swan-like neck. Indigo eyes shined brightly at the sight of her love, and dainty hands were clasped together at her chest. Ranma turned to look at her with unmatched revulsion.

"Kodachi."

"Oh, Ranma, sir, you're early for class today!" She smiled eagerly up at him, "Sit with me today, please?" Kodachi pouted her moist pink lips.

Ranma regarded her contemplatively, "No."

She whined piteously and playfully hit him on the shoulder. "You're so cruel to me," looking at Ryouga, she asked, "don't you think he's always cruel to me?"

Ryouga smiled uneasily and turned away, unwilling to be dragged into the lovers' tiff.

Ranma snorted, "Well, obviously it's not working."

"Fine," she sniffed, "I can tell when I'm not wanted." With a despondent tear-filled gaze, she fled back to her group of supportive friends.

Ranma and Ryouga watched her flee, amused and relieved.

"You really are a bastard," Ryouga remarked harmlessly as they strolled into class.

He shrugged uncaring, "She'll be back tomorrow."

Before taking a seat, Ranma shrugged off his unbuttoned collar shirt, revealing a white tee that snugly exhibited his well-toned torso and the taut biceps of his arms, flexing them as he moved to shake out the wrinkles of his khaki pants. He flopped into his chair unceremoniously and threw his head back with a tired sigh.

Ryouga shook his head, knowing fully well half the female heads were turned to their direction. Feeling mischievous, he turned to the girls and gave them a scandalous wink causing an array of squeals and sighs.

Akane exited the class, flanked by her two friends. The sudden change in temperature from the air-conditioned building to the outside heat induced her to sneeze. Sniffling, she shook her head getting rid of the tingling feeling in her nose.

"So, Sayuri, you've been awfully quiet during class," She said and she hooked her arms with the said girl, "anything up back at home?"

Sayuri grimaced and her eyebrows furrowed, "My brother, Ryunsuke, was suspended from school the other day." She glanced at the shocked expressions of her friends before continuing, "He got into a brawl with a few upperclassmen. He was always strong for his size and so he often gets challenged by students older than him."

"So, what's gonna happen?" Yuka asked.

She shrugged, "He has to stay home for a few days, and it's definitely going on his record. His record was bad enough, now it's just making it worse." Sayuri roughly brushed away loose tears, "The only thing I'm really worried about is that he might run away and join some gang. He's been talking a lot about some group called Pai Lung."

Akane hugged her distressed friend, patting her on the back. Yuka held her hand supportively.

"I have an idea," Yuka said suddenly. "I'll come over to your house today with my rat-of-a-dog your sister adores so much and I'll cook dinner! Besides," she winked good-humoredly, "I know your brother used to have a crush on me."

Sayuri snorted, "That was Akane, not you."

Yuka pouted, "He used to like me, too!" She insisted.

The girls laughed, and Akane quickened their pace to Sayuri's house, eager to carry out their plans. "That's a great idea! I'll also help with the cooking!"

Yuka and Sayuri glanced at each other fearfully.

"Uh, Akane?" Yuka laughed nervously, "don't you have tutoring tonight?"

Akane faltered, and her smile fell from her face.

* * *

**AN:** sorry! It was a boring and uneventful chapter. It was more of "A day in a life of.." sort of thing. At least there were two cameos (Gos—Gosun… I can't remember his name… and Kodachi!) Haha. And one new character Ukyo! (who'll be a major part of the story later on) But I hope the chapter amused some of you. A little? Well, as an apology I'll post up the next chapter sooner than you think (wink wink nudge nudge) Oh and leave reviews please! Hehe they inspire me to write. 


	4. Chapter 4

Um yeah, because I felt bad about the boring chapter 3, this one is extra long.

Reviewers are the life-force of this fic. Honor thy fellow reviewer.

* * *

**Possession**

by Sodalicious

**Chapter 4**

"Repression involves blocking a wish or desire from expression so that it cannot be experienced consciously or expressed directly in behavior."

_click-click_

"It is an involuntary act that prevents us from being aware of many of our own anxiety-producing conflicts or remembering certain traumatic emotional events from our past."

_click-click_

"The repressed emotion –"

_click-click_

"—seeks an alternative –"

_click-click_

"—outlet, and –"

_click -click_

"—resistance—"

_click-click_

"—is—"

_click-click_

…_futile_, she thought to herself.

_click-click_

"WILL YOU QUIT IT!" Akane slammed the textbook on the table causing Ranma to jump from his spot on the floor.

"What?" He blinked his innocent baby blue eyes.

_Click-click_

"Stop it," she ordered through clenched teeth.

"Stop – _click-click _– what?"

"Put. The pen. Down. Ranma," she articulated slowly.

"But I need it to take notes!" He bit his bottom lip, straining to hold in a rather large grin threatening to split across his face.

She rolled her eyes and reached across the table to snatch the pen from him. "If you showed an ounce of this dedication to take notes a semester ago, we wouldn't be stuck in your room learning our A, B, C's right now!" Still burning in her anger, she flipped the book upside down and pushed it in front of him, sitting across the table. "Now _you_ read."

The pouting boy grumbled a few words which she chose to ignore.

He began to read, and she tuned him out almost immediately, able to do so since she had already taken the class last year and passed with a perfect A. In fact, so did ninety percent of the class. Psychology 101 was one of the easiest courses in the school. How Ranma managed to fail it was beyond her understanding. Of course, when she had expressed her disbelief verbally, he was less than thrilled. As expected, the boy had a lot of pride to go around and practically nothing to back it up… except for maybe his "godly martial art skills," the only accolade Nabiki had ever made about the pinhead.

Yuka and Sayuri had not yet met Ranma, since it was relatively a large campus, and they evidently shared no classes. Yuka grew more and more unbearable with her not-so-subtle hints of her ever growing desire meet him. Akane controlled herself from pummeling the otherwise pleasant girl. She understood wholeheartedly that her friend was merely looking for something extraordinary, and, in the girl's delusions of grandeur, Yuka automatically assumed that the Yakuza would quench her thirst for adventure…or get her killed in the process. It was all the same to her.

Sayuri, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less, due to her younger brother's suspension from high school. Trying to play a mother figure yet remain in her sister role, she had her hands full disciplining her brother without causing him to run away from home one random night. She had little time for herself, outside of classes and work, usually going straight home to see to her delinquent brother and emotionally unstable younger sister.

Akane wanted to visit and help out around the apartment, but being a proud girl, Sayuri gently turned down the offer. Nevertheless, Akane brought four homemade _ben-to_'s (lunchboxes) courtesy of Kasumi Tendo, "with love." Sayuri hadn't said anything, but her damp green eyes with barely suppressed gratitude said it all.

Akane felt all warm and fuzzy for the rest of the week.

Nabiki came to her room on some nights just to ask a few random questions about the tutoring, sort of similar to the way a boss may ask an employee how business is faring, but not really concerned with what the employee has to say. She seldom commented but listened attentively as her younger sister gave a recap of "Tutoring the Yakuza Without Losing a Finger" episodes.

Akane tried to ask a few questions of her own about Ranma, however her sister deftly evaded giving any straight answers in that _maddening_ way only Nabiki could pull off. It made Akane want to break bricks…with her head.

"Oi! Tomboy!"

Well, a week had gone by and she vowed to get some answers tonight as soon as she returned home, with or without bricks.

A crumpled ball of paper bounced off her forehead.

She blinked, locking gazes with Ranma.

"What?"

"What are you daydreaming about?" He inquired.

"Spreading wings and flying out of here," was her knee-jerk response.

"How about I push you out the window and give it a try?"

"I'll drag you with me," she glowered at him, "and I'll hold you down." _To cushion my fall_, she finished in her head morbidly.

She crossed her arms and waited for the repartee that was bound to follow.

And waited.

Then, she noticed he was staring at her somewhat vacantly. "Ranma?"

"_Ranma, please…" Her voice wavered and slim hands rose up to cup her mouth, preventing more words from spilling forth. She glowed in the rays of the setting sun. Her white bow atop her head was washed in red and orange hues as well as her pale complexion. Harsh shadows accentuated her high elegant cheekbones, the arch of her nose, her swollen red lips, and her luminescent eyes. "Please," she whispered._

"_I'm sorry," he said, wincing at how lame it sounded. He clenched his fists to avoid reaching out to her. Her body trembled as if needing his touch, calling out for him to engulf her in his arms. But his feet remained planted to the ground, hands fisted to his side. He wanted to run. He wanted to stay. _

"_Ranma," a choked sob swallowed her words._

"_I'm just not ready." Not ready to do what? He asked himself cynically. To commit? To fall in love? To be loved? To belong? _

"_But, what about me?" She asked weakly. _

"_I…"_

"_Am I supposed to wait until you're ready?"_

"_No – I mean…" He faded, hating himself for being so weak yet not weak enough._

"_How long will that take?"_

"_I don't know…" He ran his hand through his hair, stopping at the back of his to tug at his pigtail._

_He glanced at her worriedly after a long stretched silence. Dark brown bangs shadowed her face, making it unreadable. Silk strands of her waist long brown hair drifted in the breeze. Her brown eyes rimmed with shimmering tears. _

_She was heartbreakingly too beautiful to let go._

_But he was tragically too young to stay._

_She looked up at him, her lips set into a grim line. "You'll come back to me."_

_He wiped her tears and kissed her breathless._

"_I'll hold you down, Ranma."_

Akane tapped a pen on his forehead.

"Now, look who's daydreaming," she peered at him speculatively. "What are you thinking about?"

He tore his eyes away from her curious expression. "Nothing," his voice was gruff with emotion and he coughed, embarrassed. _Does she have to lean so close?_ His traitorous nose eagerly inhaled her sweet scent wafting from her proximity. Blaming the turbulent memory for his sudden attraction to the girl in front of him, he shook his head roughly. "Nothing," he repeated.

She sensibly pushed no further, "Well, what was your question?"

"Uh," Ranma racked his brain in confusion. He looked down at the textbook. "Oh, what is displacement exactly, because it doesn't seem that different from projection…" He tugged on his pigtail and uneasy eyes roamed her face.

"Well, displacement is simply when you act out your impulse on someone else instead of the person you had in mind."

He stared at her blankly.

"Okay, let's try an example. This may sound sappy but," she stalled, "imagine a boy in love with girl. However, she doesn't return his feelings. He may use someone else, a different girl, as an outlet for his unrequited love. It's basically substituting what –"

Her voice drifted like wisps of smoke around him, and his eyes glazed over as everything melted in the background except for her brown irises rimmed with specks of amber. Her blue hair grew down to the middle of her back, pooling over her shoulders, and strand by strand, blue shifted to brown. A white bow appeared on the top of her head bobbing up and down as she continued to talk, clear brown eyes holding his gaze.

_Ukyo_

"I'm sorry?" Akane's perplexed voice cut through his murky mind, and it woke him up as effectively as cold water. Her short blue hair was back in place, confusion written across her face.

By all means, Akane was not a frivolous girl who got jealous over petty things. But if a guy, even a dumb one like Ranma, called her by another girl's name, it wasn't exactly something to smile about.

She frowned.

"Uh, what?" He stuttered hoping to any god out there that he didn't say the name out loud. Mortified, he wanted nothing more than to slap himself with a barbell and fall into a peaceful unconscious slumber.

"You said a name," she hesitated, "Ukyo, I think."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes," her frown deepened, "you did."

"I did not," his stubborn chin was raised.

"You did."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Listen, you," she glared at him, "We can go at it all night, or you can just admit what we both know, and move on with our lives."

"Fine."

It took her five seconds to realize that wasn't quite what she wanted but he did his part just as she ordered. She nearly kicked herself from her mistake.

"So…" She started. "Who is this, Ukyo?"

"Nobody."

"But—"

He interrupted her abruptly, and quite rudely she might add, "Are you my tutor, or my shrink?"

"Fine," she huffed, "if you want to be that way."

He mumbled incoherently which, she assumed, was nothing good. Before she could get a word in edgewise, he continued reading the textbook out loud.

Akane was absolutely sure he had said the name _Ukyo_. Who was it? And why did he say it in such a breathless manner with that peculiar look to his face. It was almost enough to make her jealous. But that was just irrational. It could've been his household cook, for all she knew. Maybe a pet dog.

_Or_, she thought, _it could be his girlfriend_!

As soon as the idea bubbled in her head, she savagely popped it with a needle. It was highly unlikely for Ranma to have a girlfriend because if, by some work of God, he _did_ have a girl, she would be here instead of Akane. Not to teach of course, but to do things that her mind really wasn't ready to handle without her body wracking into convulsions.

Finding it impossible to resume studying, she slapped her textbook closed and moved to stand up. They were both apparently high-strung and anxious for one reason or another, and, by the looks of it, no work would get done tonight. Since the lesson for the night was cut short, they agreed to meet the next day earlier on campus to make up for lost time.

Ranma closed the bedroom door as soon as she left. He leaned his forehead on the door, his hand still holding the doorknob. With her presence gone, the heavy silence that settled over his room suffocated him. He inhaled and exhaled in rough uneven gasps, mentally straining to keep past demons out of his system. _Stop._ His hand tightened around the knob until his breathing fell into a stable pattern. He swallowed dryly and let go.

She crept her way to the front door keeping noise to a minimum. Her back to the wall, she looked left and right before stealthily turning at the corner of the hallway. A long day at school and Ranma's childish antics tired her out considerably, and she craved to rush home and bury herself in her bed, with a carton of triple fudge chocolate ice cream. Unfortunately, it was mission impossible when the wooden floor creaked underneath her foot.

"Akane," Nodoka's voice floated from behind the sliding door, "is that you?"

"Uh, yes, Mrs. Saotome," she crossed her fingers, "I'm just on my way out."

"Could you come in here for a second? I'd like to talk to you."

She threw a silent fit with her fists in the air outside the closed door before gathering her wits. Re-establishing her inner-poise and inner-peace, Akane entered the family room. "Mrs. Saotome." She took a seat on the floor in front of the woman.

"How's the tutoring coming along? I hope Ranma is not being difficult."

"Oh, no," Akane lied through the skin of her teeth, "Ranma's great."

"I would like to extend the sessions to two hours a day, if that's okay with you?"

She shook her head, forcing herself to smile, "It's no problem at all," she lied again.

_I'm going to hell_.

"Wonderful," the Saotome matriarch beamed at her.

_Yeah, wonderful._

"If he's giving you a hard time, just let me know, okay?" Not waiting for an answer, Nodoka pressed on, "I'm so pleased you're his tutor! I really enjoy having you here with us. Especially since your mother and I were so close."

Akane nodded with a sickly smile.

"Ranma's not a bad boy, but he's just been through so much, you understand, don't you?" Nodoka looked up hopefully at the wan girl. "Genma was a lot like that when he was Ranma's age as well. And he raised our son to believe that feelings are signs of weakness." She laughed uncomfortably. "But, it's a good thing I was there for both of them to put a stop to that nonsense."

She nodded, her smile wavering from strenuous effort.

"When I first met Genma," Nodoka's eyes glazed over as she stared into a corner of the ceiling, "he was so strong and powerful. A true man. He really knew how to sweep a girl off her feet." Shaking herself out of her stupor, she turned to the young girl currently occupied mentally gagging herself. "But you haven't met him yet, have you?"

Akane shook her head fervently.

"You'll see when you meet him," she giggled girlishly, and Akane felt almost bad for the woman. "He's one _fine_ man."

She stared blankly at Nodoka, not sure if she wanted the woman to divulge further. It could take an ugly turn for the worst.

"My, it's been a pleasure talking to you again," the Saotome matriarch beamed. "Come see me again tomorrow."

Smiling with barely suppressed relief, Akane stood up and primly excused herself out of the room. Her heart still thundered in her chest.

_Last thing I need to end this day is the story of how Ranma was fruited._

With a violent shudder, she hastily left the Saotome home.

Ranma stood in a corner where the streetlamp failed to reach. Behind him a group of his men restlessly shuffled around, and next to him Ryouga stood with a stiff back and arms crossed. Clenching and unclenching his fist, Ranma look up into the night and for a moment, lost himself in the millions of glittering stars, shining so bright they appeared to be falling straight down towards him.

A nudge from Ryouga brought Ranma back to reality, and he noticed a few shadows moving across the street in front of one of his father's many pachinko establishments. _Pai Lung Gang_. He grinned with anticipation, slithering further into the shadows with the rest of his men.

Stalker-free, Akane practically skipped her way home. Humming a tuneless song, she entered her house and stopped by the living room to check up on her father. Her eyebrow quirked up humorously, spotting her father nibbling on celery stick with a river of tears flowing down his face. He looked up at Akane and the tears intensified.

She walked in clicking her tongue and shaking her head at her father. Bending over, she patted his shoulder, "Awww, poor daddy, did Kasumi leave with Dr. Tofu for the night?" At his nod, she glanced at the half-eaten celery stick clutched in his hand. "And is this your dinner?" He nodded. "And that horrid daughter of yours, Nabiki, didn't buy you anything?" He shook his head. Finally, he stared at her with large moist hopeful eyes and a quivering mouth. "Don't worry, daddy," Akane patted his shoulder again, "I'm too tired to cook." She turned around and left.

Soun Tendo sagged under the weight of his colossal relief.

Settling into her pajamas, she stepped out of her room and crept to Nabiki's door. A soft knock later, Nabiki called her in, undoubtedly expecting Akane's visit. The second daughter of the Tendo family, twirled in her chair to look at Akane comfortably sitting on Nabiki's bed.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure of your visit?"

"I want to know more about Ranma."

Ranma narrowed his eyes spotting a tall, lean, man with short unruly silver hair, tousled in the breeze. _Baek-Yong Lee, _he spat out a barely suppressed growl, he signaled to his men, and the group shot out from the dark with a battle cry, catching the others by surprise.

The man with silver hair fell into a defense position recognizing Ranma immediately. He sneered hatefully, and the two leapt at each other eager to throw the first punch. The rest of the men from both sides fought below the two leaders on the street, their movements nothing but shadow-like blurs against the pavement.

The two men stumbled to the ground, wiping blood of their faces. A second later, they rushed into another attack.

Ranma said nothing, assessing his next move. His bellflower blue eyes twirled into a shade of black laced with malice. He feigned an attack to the right and snapped his left leg to kick his opponent on the stomach.

His opponent sneered and dodged the kick. Falling into a crouched form, he spun his body to sweep Ranma's legs from the ground with his right leg, but snarled as Ranma flipped backwards to avoid the low roundhouse kick. His grey-blue eyes narrowed in rage.

Nabiki looked at the younger Tendo girl, her sharp eyes reading Akane's heart-shaped face. "Well, what do you want to know?"

She fidgeted. Now that Nabiki was willing to answer some questions, Akane wasn't sure where to begin. She had no desire to know silly things like Ranma's favorite color, his favorite food, his blood type, or if he wore boxers or briefs. Oh, no. Those were for silly frivolous girls infatuated with the insufferable jerk.

"Black. Okonomiyaki. Type A. Boxers."

Akane stared at her sister, truly frightened. "Christ, Nabiki!"

"What?" she shrugged, nonchalant, "Didn't I answer your questions?"

"Dammit!" Akane felt a rush of blood fill her cheeks no doubt forming an obvious blush. "I didn't even ask anything yet!" She did not want to know how Nabiki knew such information in the first place.

"Okay, fine," Nabiki smirked, "What did I miss?"

She took a deep breath, "Who is Ukyo?"

Ranma clutched his arm as dark blood dripped between the crevices of his fingers and down his wrist. He narrowed his eyes as Baek-Yong slowly raised his sword to his eye-level.

With an unwavering smirk, Baek-Yong sprinted towards him with the sword raised in the air, his feet barely touching the gravel ground. Flawless steel flashed under the streetlight as the sword swiftly sliced through air where Ranma once stood. A resounding _cling_ echoed briefly when the metal tip hit the ground.

He swung around, slashing at Ranma's midsection, which Ranma evaded by jumping backwards. Blood seeped into their black shirts camouflaging the extent of their injuries. The two men stood a yard apart, tense and ready to strike each other once more.

"Where's your sword, Ranma?" He teased. "Lost it?"

Ranma cracked his knuckles, "I don't need a sword."

Akane watched her sister noticeably stiffen, piquing her curiosity to new heights. Anything that made Nabiki react in such a way was gold-worthy news. Akane licked her lips and leaned forward, anticipating an answer. Whoever this Ukyo was must've been a major figure, bigger than she thought.

"Never heard of her," was the curt reply.

She nearly fell off the bed.

"That's not fair, Nabiki," she cried. "I'm the one risking my neck—" _no harm in exaggerating to get one's way, right?_ "—every night and tutoring probably the most deadly human being to walk the planet—" _another exaggeration to further the cause_ "—and that's all you can give me?"

The sister gave her a side-long glance before slumping slightly in her chair. After a long silence, Nabiki revealed, "She was Ranma's girlfriend."

"Oh, is that all?" Akane chewed over the thought. "What happened?"

"Nothing. They broke up."

"Why?"

Nabiki stared at Akane impassively, "They found out they weren't compatible."

"Well, that's obvious," she made a face, "but what happened? What was wrong with their relationship?"

"It's pretty much the same old story, she wanted to settle down and he wasn't ready to commit."

She attempted to ask another question.

"Well, she's gone, and he's single. It's over. Give the fat lady a cigar. The End." Nabiki turned back to her computer. "That's love, kid."

Akane sat on the bed gazing at her sister's back, vaguely listening to the sounds of Nabiki's nails hitting the keys of her computer. _That went well,_ she thought bitterly. Her sister had managed once again to answer her questions yet leave her feeling discontented and more confused than before. She wanted to know more about Ukyo. She wanted to know more about Ranma. She wanted more answers. She wanted to smash bricks with her head.

She climbed off the bed and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

A thin red line marred his cheekbone. The bitter metallic tang of blood tainted his mouth, and he spit out the unpleasant taste, tainting the ground with red spots. A deep scratch above his eyebrow dripped with red liquid and he squinted to keep it from entering his eye. He was breathing hard, but power and energy still pulsated in his veins, his muscles thirsting for this fight, for more pain, for more blood. Ranma crouched his body once more his eyes never straying from the man in front of him.

The other man was in no better shape. A large bruise was already forming under his left eye, tinting his cheek with black, blue, and pale green. He limped from a sprained knee where Ranma had landed a hard kick. And a bloody gash stretched from his shoulder to his elbow from when they had scuffled for the possession of his sword. He weakly laughed and reveled in the pain, in Ranma's fury, and in his thirst for revenge. His slick blood-tainted hands tightened around the hilt of his sword and he raised the edge of the steel blade to his face.

"Doesn't this feel familiar?" Baek-Yong asked with a wicked grin.

"Ranma!" Ryouga's voice carried over the two men. He chucked an object into the air.

Ranma caught the gun and cocked it instantly aiming at the man in front of him.

Silver hair gleamed in the moonlight as he barked out his laughter, and he sheathed his sword. "Now, that's hardly fair, is it?" He leaped high into the air trailed by Ranma's gunshots and disappeared behind the wall lining the sidewalk. A few of Ranma's men gave a half-hearted chase after the retreating group.

Ranma kept his eyes on the wall, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"Wow, _finally_ we're going to meet the infamous Ranma Saotome!" Yuka's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Gosh, Sayuri, I can't believe you were right!"

"Yeah, I almost passed out when I saw him," Akane agreed as she and Yuka fixed their gazes at Sayuri. Their eyes narrowed in suspicion.

The girl under scrutiny just shrugged, "That's life – expect the unexpected."

Akane refrained from pulling at her hair. From Nabiki's "That's love, kid" to Sayuri's "That's life," she was ready to write her will and dig her grave. She had just about learned enough of life's lessons for the day.

"Now, listen guys," Akane stared emphatically at Yuka, "this is a study session. I'm not taking you guys there to chitchat with the boys." Seeing Yuka pout, she continued, "this is not a 'meeting' to set up dates." Akane warned pointedly at the still pouting girl, "I only brought you along because you promised to study with us and _only_ study."

The melodic ringing of the chimes announced their arrival when Akane swung open the glass door. She spotted the familiar trademark pigtail and led her friends to the table where two boys sat with bored expressions. Ranma's scratched and bruised face lifted up to meet her shocked stare.

"What the hell happened to you?" She cried out tactfully.

Ranma jerked a lazy shrug. "I fell."

She glared daggers at him, "Where? Into a meat grinder? You look mangled!"

"Thanks," he drawled, "and you look breathtaking, darling."

She snubbed him and introduced her friends instead, daring the two blank faced boys to be anything but courteous. To her delight, they smiled suavely, well as suavely as possible with cut lips and bruised faces, and with manners never seen before, stood up to tuck in the chairs for the girls…all except Akane who pulled in her own chair.

The last thing anyone had in their minds was studying, so they mutually agreed to start work after a round of drinks. While placing their order, Akane noticed Sayuri overtly staring at Ryouga while the nervous boy blushed under her hard stare. To say she was surprised would be an understatement, since never in her life of knowing Sayuri did Akane see her act so forward with interest.

Sayuri ogled him as if he was sporting only a fig leaf…a _small_ fig leaf.

"So," Akane began, "how did the two of you meet?" She glanced between the two males, who instantaneously started laughing forcefully.

"Uh, actually, I work for Ranma's family and I stay with them at their place," Ryouga scratched the back of his head. "But, I've known him since before high school."

"What about your family?" Yuka asked.

"Um, I'm not quite sure," he shifted in his seat, "I don't remember."

Feeling the somber mood dampen the atmosphere, Akane started over. "So what do you guys do in your free time? Other than school and, uh, killing, and uh whatnot. Not that I think you kill all the time or anything. In fact, I don't know if you kill at all! But since you're Yakuza you probably kill a lot. Not a _lot_ a lot, but maybe three or four times a week, give or take." A kick from Yuka under the table signaled that Akane was, indeed, babbling.

Ranma snorted.

Ryouga glanced at Sayuri, who was still staring at him in wonder, and stammered, "I like to go fishing."

The three girls looked at him surprised, and even Ranma raised an eyebrow. Akane felt the bubbling of her laughter grow as she pictured Ryouga in a fishing gear – a cargo-vest adorned with fish-baits and fisherman's boots that reach the thighs – and a hearty fanged grin on his face, holding up a stack of fish to the camera. She almost simpered at the mental image.

"I like that," Sayuri said meekly. She hesitated before saying, "I used to go fishing with my father."

Akane observed in fascination the red hue that painted Ryouga's face. She noticed Ranma's mouth quirk with amusement. "Well," she raised her voice, "Why don't we leave these old timers and their fishing stories to themselves, hmm?"

Yes, it was lame and painfully obvious.

But no one can deny it worked like a charm.

Akane, Ranma, and Yuka picked up their drinks and hustled over to another table, leaving the still tomato-faced Ryouga and the dewy-eyed Sayuri to face each other alone. On their way to a new table, Yuka leaned over to whisper in Akane's ear.

"He's cute! That lucky brat."

Akane looked at Yuka wordlessly before pasting on a half-hearted smile.

"So, Ranma, tell us, since I know Akane doesn't have the guts to ask," Yuka passed her a saucy wink causing Akane to grit her teeth, "do you have a love interest?"

He sat back, clasping his hands at the back of his neck, and balanced on the back two legs of his chair. He pretended to contemplate the question before grinning mischievously at Yuka, "Maybe."

Yuka ate it up like chocolate cake, giggling with glee.

Akane scoffed and, violently, she kicked the boy's chair causing him to lose his footing on the table and lunge backwards from the force of her 'gentle nudge.' His arms flailed in the air for one deafening moment, his entire body weight teetering on two frail legs of his chair. Only a lifetime of training allowed Ranma to regain his balance gracefully and set the chair on its four legs again. But his heart still pounded in his ears, and he breathed in gulps of air. He fixed a fierce hateful glare on Akane.

"What the fuck was that for?" He yelled. He barely spared Yuka a glance who was laughing out loud throwing her head back.

"Don't be stupid, Ranma," Akane snapped at him. "I know you don't have a girlfriend."

"How do you know?"

"If you had a girlfriend," she rested her elbows on the table, fiddling with the straw of her drink, "you wouldn't be here with us."

"That's not true," he retorted, "maybe she has class right now."

"Then you wouldn't want to be seen with us in a café since word does get around."

"Maybe she goes to another school."

She eyed him dryly, "You don't seem to be the type to withstand long distance relationships."

"Maybe she –"

"Save your breath," she waved a hand in air cutting off whatever he was about to say, "because, ultimately, if you had a girlfriend, there's no way you'd have agreed to sit through tutoring lessons _everyday_ at eight." Yuka stared at her childhood friend with newly found respect. Ranma, however, did not share the same sentiments.

"Shit," he cried, "are all you Tendo women this infuriating?"

Akane gaped at him aghast before forming a retort, "No! Kasumi happens to be the nicest person ever to grace this planet!" Okay, so that wasn't quite a fitting defense for her own sake, but for all intents and purposes…

"Who the fuck is Kasumi?"

"My sister!" She pointed a rigid finger to his face, "And don't you _ever_ put 'Kasumi' and 'fuck' in the same sentence _ever_ again or I'll cut your tongue off and feed it to Yuka's Chihuahua!"

"Hey!" Her friend protested.

"Oh that's rich, _you'll_ cut off my tongue," he sneered.

"Yes! Me!" Akane jerked her thumb to her chest. "…with a plastic knife!"

"What the shit?"

"To make it slow and painful!"

"Um, you guys?" Yuka patted Akane gently on the arm. "I think you need to settle down. People are staring." The fuming boy and girl slouched in their seats avoiding all eye contact. "Now, let's try to get along like the mature college students we happen to be."

A ring tone interrupted her, and Yuka flipped open her cellphone.

Ranma absently fingered the bruised on his cheek, wincing from pain when he applied a slight pressure. His fingers trailed to his lips that cracked and reopened during his screaming match, a thin line of bright red running down his bottom lip.

Akane, on the other hand, was beyond mortified being caught screaming like a madman in a very popular café near the university. Wanting to bury herself under the table, she slid down her seat trying to be invisible. She glanced at Ranma who appeared to be inspecting his face, and she scowled.

The cellphone snapped shut, and Yuka stood up with a regretful sigh. "As much fun as it was seeing you two battle it out like cocks," she began. Ranma raised an eyebrow at the innuendo while Akane huffed indignantly. She continued, "I have to go home and walk the family pet."

"The Chihuahua?" Akane pictured the scrawny, fur-less, overgrown rat.

"No, my sister, Yura, the other scrawny, fur-less, overgrown rat," Yuka replied sourly.

Ranma wisely kept questions to himself.

"Well," Yuka waved at them, "I'm off! After I say bye to –" She turned to the table where they had left Ryouga and Sayuri, but instead saw empty chairs and abandoned drinks. "Where'd they go?"

"Wow," Ranma whistled low, "that was fast."

"You don't think he'd," Akane wavered, "take advantage of her, do you?"

He balked as if she had insulted him, "Are you kidding? The boy is silly putty in the hands of a girl."

"Still," Yuka interrupted with a pout, "you'd think they would have the decency to say good-bye first." She shrugged indifferently, and with one last wave, she exited the café.

"Now that they're all gone, we might as well get some work done," Akane took out a few books and placed them on the table. For the next half an hour, the two huddled over their books, mainly minding their own and attempting to study. She couldn't stop worrying about Sayuri. What had ever possessed such a reserved girl to just up and leave with a cute, hot-bodied, sweet and friendly Ryouga? Akane mentally rolled her eyes at herself. _Gee, I wonder._

She set her determined gaze on the innocent textbook spread open in front of her. As soon as she got home, she would call Sayuri and forcefully squeeze out every single big fat juicy gossip from the girl until she is nothing but a dehydrated orange peel.

A low hiss disturbed her mental pep-talk, and she looked up.

Ranma touched his bottom lip, and he glanced down to see blood spots glistening on the tips of his fingers. He dapped at his lip with a napkin discreetly to avoid attention, particularly the blue-headed girl who had been glaring at her book. The bruise on his cheek throbbed numbly, and he was tempted to place his cool drink up against his face.

So he did.

"_What_ are you doing?"

He grimaced. Why was it that everything he did in front of her appeared to bother her so much? To his credit, he ignored her effortlessly to center his attention on his currently bleeding lip. He dapped at it with a napkin, trying to look manly, and not dainty, in the process.

Supposedly, he could've used the back of his hand and, in a "manly" fashion, wiped the blood away from his lip. But that might've just caused another round of "God, you brute!" from his reluctant companion. She nagged him more in the past few days that he had known her than his own mother ever had in his godforsaken life. In fact, by the look on her face, he didn't have to be a psychic to know she was going to say something anyway…

"What a piece of work you are."

He reasoned one positive aspect was her predictability. And "one" was a very _very_ small number, a very lonely number…

…meaning - a _lack_ of other positive aspects.

Figuring she probably wanted a response from him, he let out a single grunt.

She wrinkled her nose, "God, you brute."

He nodded, pleased with himself.

Then she did something… unpredictable. In one smooth move, the table was cleared into her bag, and she grabbed at his hand, pulling as she stood up. She might as well could've been pulling a building with dental floss, and she would've had better success. After two tugs and him not budging an inch, she let go and rested her hands on her hips, looking down at him as a mother would to a disobedient child.

"Get up."

"For what?"

"To leave."

"To where?"

"Somewhere else."

"Somewhere where?"

"You'll see once you get up."

"Why can't you just tell me?" He crossed his arms and leaned back further in his chair.

"For the love of God, can't you just do as I ask for once?" She stomped a foot on the floor from sheer aggravation. Her hands clenched into a death grip on the straps of her bag.

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm two seconds away from grabbing the nearest plastic knife!" She scanned the café with her eyes. To prove her point, she took three steps to a neighboring table where its occupants stared at her bewildered. "Pardon me," she said sweetly, and grabbed the plastic utensil lying on the table top. Marching straight back to Ranma, she slapped the knife on the table. "Now, you have three seconds to get up before I reach for the knife in the next two."

"Hey! That's not fair –"

"One…"

He stood up.

Feeling awfully like a pansy, especially in front of an enraptured audience sitting in the café, he ducked his head. Grumbling and with as much dignity he could salvage, he marched out of the café without waiting for her like a true mature man of his age.

Akane heaved a tired sigh, glancing at the other patrons and apologizing for the disturbance. Reaching into her bag, she retrieved her wallet to pay for their drinks but stopped abruptly. Already on the table was a sufficient amount of crinkled bills, carelessly thrown onto the metal surface. Smothering a fond smile, she left the café in search of the pigtailed boy.

She ignored the beginnings of a smile on her curved lips as she spotted the back of her companion, waiting a few feet away.

….

* * *

**AN:** well, that's all folks. The next chapter is in the making. Hope this one was good enough. New character! Baek-Yong Lee! Who the f… is _that_? Only time will tell… mwahahaha…. And Sayuri and Ryouga! What's going on! (smacks head against keyboard) bet none of you saw that coming. :P yeah well, there's still more to the story, so don't hurt me. Haha Okay, I'm gonna stop being stupid (as hard as that may be).


	5. Chapter 5

**Possession**

By Sodalicious

**Chapter 5**

Ranma craned his neck to look up at the red brick building standing in his way. Window panes gleamed in the sunlight causing his eyes to squint painfully. A full ten stories high, this was the tallest building on campus – the tallest building in this side of Nerima, actually. It also happened to be the Nerima University dorm.

He followed Akane inside, partly curious and partly terrified. After all, an attractive girl with a fuse shorter than his pinky was inviting him to a dorm room where they would end up being _alone_.

They would never find his mutilated body.

The mere thought had him screaming in abject horror and high tailing in the other direction. Give him men with knives, fools with guns, idiots with bats, an armada of sword-wielding assassins, anything but a blue-haired girl with her deviously cute smile and the plastic eating utensil clutched in her hand. Maybe instead of just his tongue, she decided to cut all of his limbs, slowly…and painfully.

He would've bolted, if it wasn't for her firm grip on his beloved pigtail. The girl had a lot more strength hidden underneath that skin than she lead people to believe. He winced; this was not going to be pretty.

"You-you won't hurt an injured, unarmed, man, would you?" He asked meekly as they entered the elevator. The plastic knife swung gaily in her hand. Ranma eyed it anxiously.

Akane passed him a sidelong glance, "If I see one, I'll give it some thought." She sighed almost blithely, "But I wouldn't hurt an injured, unarmed, _boy_, so you can breath easy."

A low blow, indeed. Especially for the self-proclaimed 'man amongst men,' Ranma Saotome.

Feeling two feet tall, he sniffed, "Then throw the stupid knife away!" He waved his hand wildly, gesturing at the utensil still within her grasp.

She brought the knife up to peer at it and stared flabbergasted, "I still have this?" Carelessly, she tossed it into her shoulder bag.

Dorm residents would later wonder where the crack on the elevator wall came from, the crack of a man – correction – a _boy_ who repeatedly beat his head against it.

"Really," she huffed, "you're just collecting those injuries, banging your head on a wall. I hear that lowers your IQ." Akane unlocked the door to a small stale dorm room. "And we both know that you can't afford to lose what little brain cells you have left." Crisp, clean, creaseless sheets covered the twin-sized bed, and a low wooden table on a plain blue rug graced the middle of the room. A few textbooks layered with dust were scattered across the floor among pencils and pens.

Ranma toed an empty cookie carton. "Whose room is this?"

"Yuka's, but since she prefers to stay at her home, we all just share it for emergencies," she pulled out the bottom drawer of the waist-high bureau and rummaged through its contents distractedly.

He squatted on the floor, tucking his legs under the table, and scratched his head. "What's the emergency? Why are we here?"

After a brief silence, she turned to him, "Because I want to ravish you," and she slammed a first aid kit onto the table.

Nabiki kept her eyes on the magazine, her hand reaching for the bag of chips. In front of her, disregarded, the television sat baring the afternoon news, and in the kitchen, the sink faucet let out a squeak as Kasumi switched it off.

Wiping her hands on her apron, the older sister glided into the living room where Nabiki lounged near the table. "I've been meaning to ask you without the presence of our father," Kasumi lowered herself to her knees, "do you really think Akane is safe with Ranma… alone?" She had been mum about the whole arrangement from the beginning; however, she had her share of opinions. Without their mother, she felt it was her responsibility to look out for her sisters…

Particularly, Nabiki.

Kasumi knew that her youngest could take care of herself. If not with her brute strength, Akane had an uncanny ability to slip out of perilous situations. When their mother had been alive, they went to Ryugenzawa for a family camping trip. Only a toddler, Akane wandered off into the forest of mammoth sized animals, and came back without a scratch to her name, just a toothy grin. Years later, she had been kidnapped by a far away prince. Just as father finished tying his armor on, she came strolling through the front door, looking only mildly hassled. Apparently, she had slapped him and turned down the offer, and he dropped her off with a humble apology. Every year, since, he would send her a birthday card and a bouquet of exotic flowers from China.

Nabiki, on the other hand, Kasumi knew, had a habit of getting _into_ trouble rather than _out_. In fact, if Kasumi wasn't so reserved with her language, she would've bluntly said that Nabiki was already knee-high in a cesspool of shit. It was bad enough already that Genma Saotome requested Nabiki's 'voluntary' servitude under his name, but she had gone and brought Akane along for the ride by sticking the poor unsuspecting girl with that son of theirs.

"Of course, she's safe," Nabiki turned to her sister, appalled that Kasumi would think so little of her as to put their baby sister at risk for a measly couple of thousands, "Frankly, I'm more worried about the boy's safety."

"OW!" Ranma hollered and flinched away from the cotton ball dripping with isopropyl, rubbing alcohol. He moved to stand up and run for the door; however, a small body tackled him to the ground and pinned his shoulders down with amazing skill. He grunted under her and grabbed her wrists to prevent her from going anywhere near his cuts. "I'd rather be ravished!"

Akane shifted to straddle him effectively and tried to pull her wrists away. "Stop babbling and hold still!" She tugged sharply and freed one of her hands. "If you don't treat these properly, you're going to get infected, you dumb ingrate!"

With both her hands free, she quickly reached for his face, slopping a dab of cotton at the threadlike cut on his cheek. He merely wrinkled his nose at the slight sting, but she knew the worse was yet to come. Slowly she inched the cotton ball towards the deeper gash above his eyebrow next to his temple. The moment she made contact, he yelled again and crawled out from her under. On his hands and knees he scrambled for the door.

Ranma had one hand curled around the doorknob, but before he could open the door, his face hit the floor as small hands clamped down on his ankles, dragging his lifeless body back into the middle of the room. "Goddamn woman!"

She held him down. Roughly, she grabbed his chin with one hand and disinfected his cut with the other, amidst his yells and shouts. "You're a Yakuza heir, for crying out loud! Stop acting like a wuss!"

He cowered under her murderous glare and stilled his body. He winced again as she dabbed at his cut despite her surprisingly gentle ministrations. She scoffed at him and tenderly blew on his cut, the cool breathe soothing the sting considerably. Vaguely aware of his tight grip on her legs, she concentrated on treating his wound while he stared up at her silently. She completely missed his cerulean eyes flicker into a deep violet as his hands slid further up her thighs.

Kasumi bit her nails worriedly and looked unconvinced at Nabiki. Akane may have charisma and an esoteric knack for survival, but she was a mastermind in pissing people off. And nothing good ever came out of pissing off the Yakuza. "Even so, Ranma is still a male, and Akane is a _fe_male."

"So, you noticed, huh?"

"He...He could try something!" She stage whispered with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Nabiki agreed, "he could try passing his classes."

"I do not appreciate you making light of this situation," Kasumi allowed the slighted of frowns to adorn her face, a sign that she was truly upset; and, a single snowflake drifted down over the flames of Hell and landed on the Devil's twitching nose. "Akane could be placed in danger at any given moment that she spends with Saotome. I just think you both need to be a bit more cautious."

"Poppycock."

Another wrinkle added to Kasumi's frown, and another snowflake floated down.

Nabiki peeked at her from behind the magazine, the crunch of a potato chip in her mouth echoing in her head. Seeing Kasumi's resolute expression, she sighed and dropped the reading material to the floor. "Look, you really think I'm going to put Akane, _our_ baby sister, in any real danger?"

She stared at Nabiki with the look all mothers, or maternal figures, shared – that 'I know you have more to say, so you'd better say it' look.

"…at least, without good reason?"

Kasumi ruffled her feathers and intensified her stare to another level – the 'that did not make me happy, try again' look.

"What I meant was," Nabiki backtracked, "I've known Ranma since he first entered our high school, which is a long way before either you or Akane have even heard of him. Being me, I've kept an eye on him all the way to college." She paused and matched her sister's unwavering stare, "I really do think they'll do each other some good."

Kasumi blinked. "That's it?" She blinked again. "You put them together because you think it'll do them some _good_!"

"Yeah, like milk," Nabiki shrugged, "it does a body good."

A hand slapped the table sharply, and a cup of tea tipped over. "Nabiki Tendo!"

Akane barely had time to register the feel of his hands sliding up her thighs to her waist before he flipped her over and pinned her wrists above her head. Amber-brown owl eyes gaped up at the smug boy hovering over her. "What the – ?"

"Leave me alone, brat."

"Let go, you – you –" she struggled vainly under his form, "you wretched oaf!" She stopped her thrashing and looked at him weirdly, "Why are you so protective of your injuries?"

Ranma unwittingly loosened his grip on her wrists, "Just stop."

"Fine, I will stop trying to help you," she said solemnly, "after I take a look at that gash on your arm."

"No!"

He had more to say but was cut short when Akane slipped from his hold and shoved him to the side. They flipped positions with a _thump_. However, before she could claim victory, he propelled himself forward, and she found herself falling onto her back. A _bump _and a _thud _later, he landed above her once again.

"Goddammit!" She cried and slapped the floor as hard as she could in frustration. A sudden stroke of genius befell her, and she pinched his nose with one hand and covered his mouth with the other.

Taken aback by her attack (and realizing that he couldn't breathe), he stumbled away. Ranma battled internally whether he should laugh at her 'asphyxiation attack' or laugh because it actually worked.

She took advantage of his stupor and wiped the scar on his arm with a new swab of isopropyl.

"Christ, woman, that hurts!" He hissed and jerked his arm back. She yelped when her firm grip on his arm forced her to be pulled towards him. She found herself in his arms uninvited and unwilling. He froze.

Akane groaned miserably and lifted her head from his shoulder, "You are so not worth the trouble." Upon opening her eyes, she found herself nose to nose with an equally surprised Ranma. In a millisecond, she noticed his crystal blue eyes had specks of silver, alive, swirling, sparking. One thought came to mind – _electric_.

They blinked simultaneously

"Ack!"

"Gah!"

They propelled away from each other. Both breathed heavily and had nothing but suspicion etched in their eyes, staring at the other warily.

"YOU!" They shouted at once.

"You goddamn miserable hellcat, stop playing 'doctor' and fucking leave me alone!" Ranma spoke first over Akane. He stood up towering over her and tried to look menacing. He snarled, desperately trying to instill fear to make her obey him.

Nabiki hid a grin and asked her older sister unaffected, "I'm guessing you didn't find that funny."

"No," Kasumi snapped, "I didn't." She cleared her harsh voice and proceeded to wipe up the spilled tea. "It's not that I think of you as a heartless vicious scoundrel with no shame or sympathy," She began, "but, while usually I can see the purpose behind your actions, I can't find one good reason why you placed Akane in such a position. The girl already has enough to worry about, with school and all," Kasumi sighed and crossed her arms, passing her a flat look, "and now she has to make sure to stay _alive,_ everyday."

"Oh, please," she barked out a laugh, "it's _Ranma_ we're talking about here. He's harmless. Well, to women, he's harmless. But if anything happens, I know he will do everything in his power to keep Akane safe."

"How do you know that?"

"Because…" Nabiki turned to face the television, a bored expression gracing her face. "If anything happens to Akane, his mother will skin him alive and make him sleep on a bed of needles."

Kasumi winced, hastily burying the image from her mind. Sometimes, it sucked to have an active imagination.

The two sisters silently drank their tea, contemplating the whereabouts and welfare of their youngest. Kasumi mildly wondered what to cook for dinner, while Nabiki ruminated over last month's household expenses. It seemed that much of the hard-earned money was being spent on buying…celery sticks?

"Besides," she continued, "Akane _can _take care of herself. We know this. Mother and father trained her well since a young age, and she goes to the gym to practice a few times a week. I'll even go as far as to say she's probably healthier and stronger than us put together." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, a true daughter of a proud Soun Tendo. "And she's got one hell of a right-hook."

"A mean right-hook isn't enough to save her life."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she slipped another chip into her glossy pink lips. "Akane is fine, and that's all that matters, right? She's a big, strong, girl with a good head on her shoulders. I'm sure she won't to anything to provoke anybody to kill her."

This would be the day, distinguished from all other days, of how Ranma learned his first true lesson from Akane Tendo – and the power of her 'persuasive' teaching techniques.

She jumped to her feet matching his stance. Without warning, she whapped him on the side of his head, emitting a sound much like knocking on wood. "What did you call me?" She yelled back.

He rubbed his head and scowled at her. He opened his mouth.

She whacked him on the head again with much more force, cutting him off. "What? You ungrateful little prick! What!" Her anger simmered under her skin, and she itched to lash out. She slapped him hard on the shoulder multiple times.

"H-h-hey!" He cried out weakly under her beating and tried to arch his shoulder away from her reach. To his displeasure, she stepped closer, and her slaps continued to rain down his back and up to his head. A particularly hard strike cut off his speech, and he cringed painfully, grabbing the back of his head with both hands. "OW!" He rubbed his head vigorously.

"You scummy, pea-brained, schmuck!" Before she could consider her actions, her foot shot out to kick his shins. He winced and bent over to rub his leg. "For the past week, I've put up with your shit!" She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and shook his bent-over form violently. "I try to help you out of the goodness of my heart, which is a god-given miracle, and _this_ is how you thank me?"

"Gah! Okay! Calm down!" He ducked under her attacks, his arms shielding his head.

Akane slowed her assault and eventually stopped. He stood up to his full height, half a foot above her, and ostentatiously dusted his clothes, looking obnoxiously unfazed in her presence. She eyed him, expecting an apology or a hint of gratitude – _any_ sign of human decorum.

"Bitch," he mumbled under his breath.

She gasped.

It was one small step for Akane, and a giant leap for Ranma as he soared across the room from the impact of her uppercut punch.

…

Boy and girl sat on the floor, on the verge of collapsing, on opposites sides of the room. Ranma subconsciously flexed the muscle of his arm, feeling the constraints of the gauze wrapped tightly around his bicep. He stared obtrusively at the girl wishing he could fire laser beams through his eyes. He would've given anything to use her head as a stress-ball.

_Fuck, I ended up with more bruises than I started with_, he thought bitterly, still feeling the throb of her punch. She had one hell of a nasty right-hook. _What kind of psycho taught it to her?_ He thought incredulously.

Akane fumed silently while slumping against the wall. He had been impossible, indomitable, and unendingly uncooperative. Why he put up such an objection towards treating his wounds was beyond her, and why she helped him anyway was even more of a mystery. The more he griped, the more she wanted to complete her task. Maybe she should've wrapped some gauze over his mouth instead.

She slowly got to her feet. "I have to go to the hospital and help _other_ people – pleasant people who know how to be grateful." Hearing no response, she straightened her clothes and tidied the room, placing the first aid kit back into the bureau.

A short while later, Akane turned around to find Ranma standing by the door, her bag of books in his hand, swung over his shoulder. His eyes flickered in her direction but he kept his head facing away.

Her lips twitched.

The minute they stepped out of the building, Akane was sure he was going to bolt as far as his feet could take him, away from her. But he remained one step behind her, walking her to the hospital. Having nothing to hold in her hands, she clasped them demurely in front of her and took light steps at a normal regular pace.

Over the horizon and beyond the river, the red sun peeked over the low mountains and peeked in between buildings. Scarlet, golden, and ginger clouds drifted in the distance, joined by puffs of smoke from chimneys and furnaces. Various insects, grasshoppers and cicadas, strung their nighttime lullaby as the sparrows quieted their daytime tunes for a night's rest.

If he wasn't such a pigheaded dimwit, she could've enjoyed walking in his company.

"So," Akane broke the silence with an oddly happy lilt in her voice, "what did Akane-sensei teach you today?"

"Thou shall not refer to Akane Tendo by any derogatory names," he grumbled.

She passed him a smug smile.

They stood by a deserted bench, hidden in the shade of Sakura trees to the side of the hospital building. Just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, a street lamp flickered on above them, humming to life.

Humor gone, Akane shifted her stance, avoiding eye contact. Her gaze landed on the toes of his ebony shoes, a mere foot away from hers. _Nice shoes_, she thought absently.

She wondered if she should thank him for walking with her, however the fact that he didn't exactly say he walked her to the hospital (even though he _did_) made her hesitate. What if he thought she was inconsiderate? What if he thought she was looking too deep into things? Maybe this was his way of thanking her for treating his wounds… Or maybe she was losing her mind. Was his stupidity contagious?

He cleared his throat.

"Uh," he uttered, "here." He held out her bag hanging limply in his hand.

She had the insane urge to giggle. Perhaps she should request a CAT scan later after volunteer work.

"Oh, right," she bit her lip, "thanks." With a surprisingly sturdy hand, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around the strap. She moved to pull away, but his hand grabbed her wrist and brusquely dragged her to his solid body. The bag fell to the ground beside them with a neglected _thud_.

His arms, as strong and warm as they were, encircled her waist gently, barely touching her. His large hands only ever so slightly spread down her back, his heat the only proof of his presence engulfing her. And all the while, she held her breath, unable to break away despite his light hold. She stared transfixed to the roll of his adam's apple as he swallowed noticeably. She couldn't help but think how utterly attractive it was, how impossibly masculine his statuesque neck and broad shoulders appeared to be, chiseled with sharp curves under sun-kissed bronze skin.

Akane was, after all, a healthy young woman in her early twenties and, now, in the arms of one of the most attractive males ever to walk in her line of vision.

So, she did what any healthy young woman in her early twenties, and in the arms of one of the most attractive males _ever,_ would do…

She melted.

Just as afraid to touch him, her fingers slightly grazed his shoulders, the entire front of her body brushed against his. She felt his breath breeze across her cheek and flow over her ear, as her exhale caressed his the same.

She could've sworn he was fire itself, licking against her skin. Teasing her with only his heat and softest of touches.

His lips nipped the curve of her jaw right below her ear sending delicious shivers from the back of her neck down her spine.

She almost screamed. She wanted him to crush her against him and land those soft lips firmly against hers.

Ranma's lips moved up to her ear and he whispered…

"Hellcat."

And she was suddenly alone under the glow of the street lamp, all traces of the pigtailed martial artist gone.

Akane collapsed onto the bench with wide eyes, her hands coming up to cover her opened mouth.

_What was **that**_?

…

"Sayuri! Where's dinner? I'm starving!"

She sighed and placed the kitchen knife on the cutting board. But she hummed and smiled as she dropped the chopped blocks of carrots into the pot of curry. With a spin in the middle of her kitchen, she waltzed from the counter to the fridge and to the dinner table, a dreamy look upon her face.

The two younger siblings stared at her.

"What's wrong with her?" Sera asked discreetly leaning over to her older brother.

Ryunsuke shrugged but kept a suspicious eye on the blissful girl. He had been walking home after hanging out with his usual group of friends. It was relatively dark, enough for the lamps down the street to be turned on. Cars and people on bicycles slipped past him, everyone eager to return to the comfort of their homes. His feet dragged across the gravel street lined up with houses and stone walls dividing each property.

He had been distracted when an attractive girl around his age stepped out of a gate lugging a garbage bag. He tried to catch her eyes as she tossed the garbage into a bin outside the walls, but she ignored his presence the whole time and scuttled back into her house.

Disappointed, he resumed walking at a much slower pace. He arrived to the three story apartment complex where undoubtedly both his nagging sisters were waiting for him, but froze behind the corner as he caught sight of his oldest, Sayuri, standing in front of the outside stairs accompanied by a guy. He watched them curiously for a few minutes but got quickly bored when neither of them moved nor even spoke. He stepped away from the corner to call out but suddenly, she threw herself into the arms of the man in front of her.

Catatonic, Ryunsuke could do nothing but watch his sister, who had been single her entire life and never touched another male except to receive change from the guy behind the cash register. He frowned slightly when her companion wrapped his thick toned arms around her slim waist, hugging her closer.

But he stayed hidden as they exchanged a few words and the man disappeared down the street. Only after Sayuri walked up the stairs and into the front door of their one bedroom apartment on the attic of the building, he came out of his hiding place and distractedly ran his fingers threw his hair. Green eyes, shared by both his sisters, narrowed in the direction in which the man had run off

Now, here he was, sitting at the dinner table, eating the curry she made, and waiting patiently for her to say something, _anything_, about the man he caught her with. So far, nothing.

"So, what have you been up to these days?" He prodded.

Sayuri paused mid-bite, surprised by the question coming from him of all people. "Nothing, really. Just classes and work." Even Sera looked at her brother oddly and back to Sayuri in confusion.

"That's all? What about friends?" He asked with an unreadable expression.

"They're fine," Sayuri narrowed her eyes at him, "we met today and hung out for awhile." After a round of silence, she challenged him, "What about you and _your friends_? I know you've been mingling with that good for nothing gang."

"Whatever," he shrugged, "I don't really do much with them."

"Rob any banks lately?" Sera added her two cents to the conversation much to the displeasure of her brother.

"That's tomorrow night," he snapped. "I suppose you're not pregnant yet?" He sneered at the younger girl.

"Not yet," she glared, "but I'm working on it."

"Guys," Sayuri warned much as a mother would, "not at the dinner table.

"What about you, Sayuri?" He turned on her abruptly. "I suppose you're working on it, too?"

"What?" She cried out, stunned.

"Who was that guy that dropped you off?"

"What guy?" Sera wanted to know.

"I said not at the dinner table!"

"Who is he?" Ryunsuke demanded.

"Why does it bother you?" Sayuri asked.

He blinked at her before lifting his shoulder into a careless shrug. "It doesn't bother me. I'm just curious." He smirked when she rolled her eyes at his reply. "What? Can't I be protective over my two sisters?"

Sera snorted. "My hero," she drawled. "So, then Sayuri, who is he? When will we get to meet him?" Her eyes shined eagerly.

Sayuri laughed, sounding forced even to her own ears. "He's uh, nobody, really. Just a friend."

"Uh-huh," Ryunsuke quirked and eyebrow. "That was a pretty intimate hug for just a friend," he remarked.

"Just a really good friend," she corrected.

"How come we've never seen him before if he's a really good friend?"

She sighed, now annoyed with his interrogation. "Why am I getting the third degree?"

Before anything else could be said, the ringing of their doorbell interrupted their dinner. Sending a hearty thanks to whatever powers that be, Sayuri jumped from her chair and ran to the door.

"Yuka!" She happily ushered in her friend. "What are you doing here?"

Yuka smiled uneasily, "I just wanted to talk with you. Do you have a moment?"

Akane had been sitting at the bench for quite some time. But if anyone asked her for how long, she would've answered 'only a minute.' To admit that Ranma Saotome turned her into a sappy sop too weak to stand on her own, would be catastrophic to her mental health. Standing up straight, she slapped both sides of her face sharply, and shook her head violently.

Next time she saw him, she was going to give him a joyful reunion with her fist for the stunt he just pulled… whatever it was.

Hyping herself up for the long night ahead in the hospital, she hurried up the steps into the sterile white building, greeting the staff members happily.

And she couldn't stop smiling.

Yuka and Sayuri sat outside on the ledge of the building, staring off into the velvet night scattered with glittering stars. They could hear the other two siblings inside the house bickering about the usual everyday things.

"So, where did you guys go today?" Yuka inquired quietly.

Sayuri smiled softly, knowing who she was referring to. "We just walked around the park to talk privately. We had a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," Yuka murmured, "you didn't even bother telling the rest of us that you were leaving."

"Sorry."

She shrugged lightly, and grinned at the sheepish girl, "hey, nothing to be sorry about. It's _your_ life at risk going out with a member of the Yakuza, not mine." She stuck her tongue out, teasingly, and blew a raspberry.

Sayuri returned the favor.

"I guess you guys really hit it off." Yuka said after a while. She kept her eyes on the stars above them.

"Sorta," Sayuri grinned, "you could say we have a lot in common."

"You mean besides fishing stories?"

"Har har," she laughed sarcastically, "more than fishing stories."

Yuka peered at the girl sitting beside her, her heart clenching with a feeling akin to fear. It was almost funny how overrun with emotions she was for someone she didn't even know. They had barely exchanged a few words, and even fewer glances, and he probably didn't even know her name. But all she could think about was his shy smile, his soft emerald eyes, and his adorable tiny fangs that caused a slight lisp when he talked. "Do you –" Yuka stalled, "do you like him?"

Akane washed her hands, trying to rid the weird wet-powder sensation that hours of donning latex gloves often left on her skin. Drearily, she looked at her worn out expression in the mirror, her short blue locks in disarray, and tell-tale signs of dark circles under her eyes. She grimaced. With a resigned sigh, she left the restroom bumping into one of the nurses.

"Oh, Akane! There's someone at the front desk asking for you," the young blonde nurse, winked her blue eye, "he's cute! You better hurry before one of the girls snatches him up!" She giggled and scampered off, leaving a confused Akane behind.

She curiously made her way to the main entrance.

"Ryouga?"

The fanged boy stood up from his seat, nervously smoothing down his pants. He smiled adorably, scratching the back of his head with one hand. "Uh, hey."

"What are you doing here?" She bounded up to him happily. "How did you know I was here?" She quickly led them to the waiting room and helped herself to a cup of coffee, the caffeinated life-force for everyone in the hospital.

"Um, Sayuri told me," he took a seat in a bench by the wall, leaving enough space for Akane to sit by him.

She walked over and sat in the chair across from him, a bright smile still pasted on her weary face. "What brings you here? Did something happen?"

He coughed, "No, nothing happened. I was just in the area and wanted to see how you were doing." He looked up at her and grinned, the corner of his eyes crinkling and the dimple by his left cheek deepening. "So, how are ya?"

Akane laughed delightedly. "I'm great! Things are hectic here like always, but really, I don't remember a time when I felt this wonderful."

Encouraged by her warm reception, he leaned his elbows on his knees and moved forward. "How long have you been volunteering here?"

"Hm, since high school, with Nabiki's suggestion. I thought that a career in medicine was for me. But around the last year of high school, I decided to pick up law instead. I still volunteer, though. I don't have the heart to leave these people behind just because my interests have changed, you know?"

He nodded vigorously, regarding her with nothing but admiration.

"Yeah, of course I like him," Sayuri answered matter-of-factly. She wondered where he was at this moment and if he was thinking of her as well. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she recalled Yuka's question. She jerked and turned wide owl eyes towards her friend. "Why? Do you – I mean – are you interested in him?"

"No!" Yuka laughed but didn't know why she was laughing. "No! I'm not interested in him at _all_. He's all yours." She was sure there was a neon sign lighting up the night with the word 'denial' spelled out across her forehead.

"No! That's okay!" Sayrui cut in almost forcefully. "You can have him. I like him, but not in that way. We're just good friends. Really!" She grabbed Yuka's arm earnestly and chewed on her bottom lip.

"Oh, no, I'm not interested! It's fine. You guys look cute together anyway," Yuka urged. This was so stupid. Whatever happened to girls fighting tooth and nail over a guy? Why were they both instead doing the exact opposite? It made her want to laugh with relief and with regret. She felt a little bit of both. Maybe, she should say she felt more of regret. Regret that she didn't disappear with Ryouga first.

"Stop being self-sacrificing," Sayuri laughed at her friend, "we're not interested in each other in _that_ way. If you like him, I say go for it!"

"Really?" Yuka asked with a pout.

Sayuri nodded vivaciously.

"So, you'll stop seeing him for me?"

"Well, I won't stop seeing him," Sayuri looked away worriedly, "but I can promise that we won't get romantically involved."

Yuka didn't answer, but chose to stare down at the dark street below them. _What does that mean?_

Ryouga stepped out of the hospital, and as soon as he was a good distance away from the building, he knocked his fist on the side of his head, hard. He rubbed his face with his hands and shook his head at himself. Uttering a few harsh words to himself, he sighed and trudged his way back to the Saotome home.

Akane stared aimlessly into her locker, her thoughts running amuck with Ryouga's visit an hour ago. She still had no clue as to why he dropped by her hospital, and he offered no reason besides the clichéd 'in the area' excuse.

Then again, maybe he _had_ been in the area.

She shrugged and gathered her belongings. She hoped he had accomplished whatever he came here for. He had been fidgeting nervously the whole time, as if he had something important to say but hesitant to speak. Instead, they sat through an inane but friendly conversation that ultimately, in her opinion, went nowhere. Not that she wasn't thankful. It was always nice to have a friend visit her during work since it gave her a break amidst the mayhem.

Akane left the building and headed in the direction of her home, anticipating Kasumi's mouth-watering miso soup and the soft downy comfort of her bed.

With Ryouga on her mind, thoughts drifted towards Sayuri. Akane still wanted to know where the two disappeared to during the afternoon and what had transpired between them. She couldn't ask _him_, however. She felt uncomfortable discussing it with the male side of the story. Whereas females had the propensity to exaggerate a situation into massive proportions to fit their own fancy, males had the tendency to underestimate the same situation to be as menial as watching paint dry.

Akane preferred the bright flowery version of a female over the dull lackluster version of a male.

Speaking of Ryouga, her thoughts wandered, reluctantly, to a particular boy in his classic button down maroon shirt and iron pressed black pants. Truthfully, she had been almost grateful for the busy day in the hospital since it kept her mind off of the pigtailed boy and his inexhaustible energy...and seductively warm heat. She gagged herself.

Shaking her head from the dangerous path it was about to tread, she took a deep breath of the night air. And she locked away the memory for another time when she wasn't too drained to think with a clear and rational brain.

But she wasn't _that_ worn out as to miss the extra set of footsteps that had been following her since she left the hospital. Knowing that looking back would only worsen the situation, she picked up her pace and made several pointless turns instead of heading straight towards her house. When the footsteps turned every turn and kept up with her speed, she knew it was purposely trailing her.

She supposed she could've turned around and attacked the person with the element of surprise. However there was a good chance the person had a knife or a gun, which would end tragically on her part. So it was with good reason and life-preserving instinct that she shot off like the wind, running frantically to the safety of the Tendo home.

Later, she would pride in herself for not screaming like a madman during the chase. Though, it might've been beneficial if she had, but still terribly embarrassing. It was pride over life. And she chose pride. She was never known for being a wise person. Why change the norm just because some lowlife rapist was chasing her?

Her heart pounding painfully in her chest, she swiveled around the corner of her block, her house in sight. Tears nearly leaked out from relief. Nothing short of a brick wall could've stopped her momentum as she ran large leaps down the street… except for the brick wall of a person that suddenly popped up in her path. Despite her attempts to skid to a stop, she crashed into the figure, wincing as the person gripped her arms and began to drag her towards the side of the road.

_This is it_, she thought to herself, _either you go home raped, killed, or bruised. Take your pick!_

She chose _bruised_.

With the bit of training from her younger years, she kneed him in the stomach causing the man to bend over. Without a moment to lose, she jammed her elbow into his face and as soon as his hold loosened, she wrenched herself away from him and moved to run. She took a step and stopped shortly at the click of a gun, its barrel aim against her head.

"Move and die."

Suddenly her list of options was limited to one.

She gave no resistance as two men grabbed her arms on either sides and proceeded to drag her back to the side of the road where a sleek black car awaited.

The door swung open and she was thrown in.

…

* * *

AN: omg! 21 reviews for chapter 4! I nearly fell off my chair. I seriously walked on cloud nine for the entire week with this stupid grin on my face. You people really know how to make a fool like me gush and swoon like a girl in love. I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations! Sorry, I didn't have time to proofread or anything cuz of my busy schedule. (I'm taking classes already! (sob)) btw! There's a reference to a Tarantino movie in this fic… can you find it? Mwhahaha. It's not a direct reference, but something from the movie. (it was completely unintentional, I only noticed after I wrote it. o.O) Okay, enough of my retardedness. 

btw, rape is one of the most horrid heinous crimes, and if, God forbid, you're being persued, you should yell on the top of your lungs. I was only expressing Akane's irrationality despite her reasonsings during the chase.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It was well into night, about the time when daytime people settled in their beds and nighttime people came out of theirs. As for Ranma, he did neither. The thick blackness enveloping him in its protective blanket, he soared into the sky. He closed his eyes as he was suspended in the air, floating for a millisecond, feeling weightless and free.

It was the same hazy sensation that he had felt when he buried his nose into Akane's hair at her nape, underneath the streetlamp sometime ago. Had it been the same with Ukyo? The first memory he had lost of her was her voice. Months after, he had forgotten her scent and, after that, her touch. Only a vision remained in his memories, like age-old, weathered out, snapshots.

He descended his way back down from gravity's selfish pull and nimbly landed on the tiled roof of his home.

The thick silence was jarred by a car entering the gates of the Saotome property. Cruising easily on the gravel driveway to the front of the house, Ranma watched from the roof as it slowed to a stop. Servants streamed out of the house, lining up from the car to the front door. He continued to watch through half-lidded eyes from his position up above as Genma heaved himself out of the automobile followed by a dramatically slow and graceful exit of Xian Pu.

He sneered and looked away, losing interest. Had he watched longer he would've noticed Genma climb back into the car, driving off, and leaving his mistress at the Saotome home for the night.

…

Akane thought she had been alone in the backseat. However, the pungent smoke of a cigar seared her nose, signaling another presence. A large figure sat hidden in the shadows with only a thin stream of streetlight filtering in through the car window, silhouetting his bulky profile. He shifted slightly turning his face towards her, and she instantly recognized the blue eyes.

It was an older, fatter, bald version of Ranma.

She would've laughed if it wasn't for the glaring fact that this ginormous man was _the_ _shateigashira_ of the Yakuza. He could have her head with a lift of his finger. And that was no laughing matter.

Those beady eyes glued to her, she sat petrified and put all the distance possible between them. She imagined, just like in those movies, the female lead would start whimpering and blubbering, crocodile tears dripping down her face, and she would beg to be set free, claiming whatever innocence in the matter at hand. But Akane was not a female lead in some cheesy gangster movie.

"Uh…" She said smartly.

Genma chose that moment to look away, preferring to see the passing scenery from within the car. He showed no intention of saying anything to her but merely puffed his cigar. Granted, she was terrified; however, she did not feel any danger emitting from the suavely tuxedoed old man next to her.

The car cruised down the high-end street of Ginza, an area that never slept and was always bustling with people of wealth and riches. Elite bars, café's, and shops lined up both sides of the two way street. This was the place of European brand names and five star hotels. Despite her predicament, Akane felt a rush of excitement tingle her nerves as she hungrily stared out the window taking in the bright lights and sparkling store windows exhibiting items she couldn't even dream of owning.

They stopped in front of a particularly grand and ornate boutique with its salespersons already on the sidewalk waiting for the arrival of Genma's ride.

Akane followed him out nervously and still clueless as to what she was 'kidnapped' for.

Inside the gold and white Victorian themed boutique, a group of women in pink smocks engulfed her and dragged her into a large fitting room, bigger than her own bedroom back at home. They began to undress her, prodding at her hair, her skin, her waist and her legs. She felt obtrusively violated, and she pushed their hands away quite rudely.

But they were strong, vicious and willful, and somehow had managed to wrap her in a body-hugging, strapless, pink satin gown that had her feeling like a stuffed sausage. A glance at the full-body mirror confirmed her suspicions. Ignoring her protests, they pushed her out to the lounge area of the store where Genma sat like a king in the ornate Victorian sofa. She clasped her hands in front of her timidly. He shook his head once, and she was dragged back into the fitting room by ten pairs of hands.

After being tossed back and forth ten times wearing ten different outfits and playing model for him, in her latest dress standing in front of Genma once more, she stomped her delicate heels and refused to budge.

"_WHAT_ is going on here?" She cried, looking defiantly at the most dangerous man on this side of Tokyo.

He said nothing but instead, his eyes lingered down her form, glazing over with emotion she didn't want to identify. She shifted uncomfortably in the black and silver cocktail dress, embellished with faux diamond studs and wispy silver patterns curving down its length. Her hair was pinned up by a single white rose and strings of pearls hanging down from the flower, brushing against her cheek. An inch-wide band of diamonds encircled her slim neck, cold against her skin. And open-toed high heels, with thin black straps around her ankles, adorned her feet. She stomped her dainty shoe again.

"This is great and all, but I don't always get kidnapped and pampered on a regular basis. So would somebody please throw me a bone here and tell me what is going on?" She snapped and flashed livid brown eyes in Genma's direction.

Genma nodded, "This will do." He stood up and walked out of the store.

Akane cried out in outrage at the blatant negligence of her extremely upset state. But she was promptly led out after Genma and back into the car with him. Once in the vehicle again, she turned to the uncooperative man with clenched fists.

"I don't care who you think you are, but if you don't tell me what is going on this instant, I'm going to raise hell!"

She was sure her life expectancy was cut to her delicate age of 21 when his eyes narrowed at her. Anticipating a swipe from a sword or a shot from a gun, she closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow. Several minutes passed, and sweat perspired on the surface of her forehead.

Finally, he delivered, not a sword or a gun, but an answer, "We're having dinner."

Back at the Saotome estate, Ranma jumped from his spot on the roof and strolled into the house through the front door. His mother absolutely hated it when he jumped in through the windows like a thief. Upon entering, his eyebrows furrowed at the lack of activity in the household. Usually with the arrival of his father, the servants would be running amuck from room to room to serve that fat-man's every needs. But tonight, everything was at a standstill…and it made him extremely wary.

He opened his mouth to call out for his mother but stopped remembering Xian Pu's presence lurking somewhere within these rooms. It wasn't often, but sometimes Genma brought his mistress to the house for one reason or another, mostly his own sick pleasure, but when he did, Nodoka locked herself away in her private room, refusing to step out until his mistress was out of the house.

A few months ago, the situation got out of hand where Genma let his mistress stay for more than the usual one-nighter. She stayed for three days causing Nodoka to remain in her room for three days with no food. On the third day, Ranma broke the door down and took her to a hospital. He came back the next day and blew up at his father which led to a physical fight.

And as per usual, Genma won the upper hand only by a sneak attack that he kept up his sleeves for moments precisely like this one. The risk, however, was that Genma wouldn't be able to perform the move again because, being the prodigal martial artist, Ranma had the gifted ability to learn and adapt moves with one demonstration.

An apology to his wife was never issued, but he had never brought Xian Pu back to the house, until now.

Ranma was, to say the least, upset.

"Oyaji!" He called out, echoing down the downs. "Goddamn filthy old fart," he added under his breath.

After scouting the entire first floor, he rushed upstairs in search of his father. He nearly crashed into the womanly figure standing at the top of the stairs in all her glory, a silky red robe wrapped snugly around her.

"He's not here," she said plainly. She leaned against the wooden railing, swiping her luscious locks behind her shoulder.

"I can see that," he bit out and passed her to enter his bedroom.

"Ranma!" She called after him.

Against his will, he stopped and turned to face her. He regarded her mutely.

She smiled and sauntered slowly around him, brushing her curves against his tense muscled form. "It's rare that Genma leaves me alone in your presence. He knows I'm quite…_fond _of you," she whispered close to his ear and let her fingers slide across his shoulders and down his arm. "Why don't we make the best of this, hm?" Her lips briefly slid over his barely making contact. But it was more than he could stand.

He pushed her away roughly, knowing a little force would not harm the one-time martial artist from China. She crashed against the wall and scowled at him, marring her pretty face.

"Don't touch me ever," he bit out with a grimace. He spun around and proceeded to walk away.

"I know where that stupid old man is," she pulled out her trump card.

Indeed, he stopped in his tracks. "Where?"

"A kiss," she demanded. "Just one kiss, and I'll tell you."

"You make me sick."

But she only smiled again, knowing he would fulfill her request to get her answer, "That doesn't matter."

She only saw the electric blue of his eyes before he crashed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss that made her knees weak. She fell against the wall once more, clutching the front of his shirt desperately. A weak moan escaped her throat from the pain, from the pleasure, from the desire consuming her overwhelmingly. And just as brutally as he kissed her, he ripped himself away from her in the same fashion, wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand. Her laborious breathing could be heard in the space between them. Large violet eyes peered at him with an emotion akin to hope.

"Where is he?"

Disappointed, she looked away, biting her bottom lip in frustration. "He went out to dinner… with another woman."

"With who?" he asked perplexed. Did Genma pick up another mistress?

At this, Xian Pu shrugged indifferently. "I didn't get a good look at her since it was only a picture. But it was some plump brat with short blue hair, and I think brown eyes. She was rather plain if you ask me, but I'm not complaining."

His head ducked in thought, his bangs shading his eyes. Only one person came to mind. "Where is he taking her?" Ranma demanded in a low voice she had never heard from him before.

She blinked. "Do you know her?"

"If I have to ask you again, I'm going to force it out of you," he threatened. He was never known for being a patient person, least of all with his father's mistress.

She assessed him through unfazed, half-lidded eyes, and turned away impassively, "I don't know where."

She hadn't thought it was humanly possible to have the speed that Ranma accomplished. In a blink of an eye, he had his hand wrapped tightly around her throat and up against the wall so that only the tip of her toes touched the wooden floor. Her own hands automatically came up to wrap around his wrist.

"Tell me where he took her or I swear you'll never see your beloved China ever again," he growled out. She watched in horror as his beautiful blue eyes darkened to black with the promise of death. For the first time since her captivity in Japan, she felt fear course into her rapidly pumping heart.

Ranma was never the one to harm a woman, she knew. Everybody knew. However, to what degree was he willing to bend his own rules? And for who was he willing to sacrifice it all? She began to see spots growing around the edge of her vision. "Probably at his regular restaurant," she choked out, "in Ginza. It's called Beige."

He let go abruptly, and she collapsed to the floor at his feet, gasping for breath. She could only sit and stare at his shiny black shoes as he calmly walked away and out of the house.

Beige was a costly, fancy French restaurant located in the Chanel building in Ginza. Its classic French theme with a modern flair and its four star French chef attracted all the elite from around the area, and often, customers bought little 'souvenirs' in Chanel on their way in and out of the restaurant.

Grand sparkling chandeliers crafted from genuine crystals and gold frameworks loomed over the dining patrons. Silverware and porcelain plates clinked among the murmur of conversations. A live orchestra played jazz and classical music in the center of the carpeted floor, and a moat of wood floor encircled the musicians for the patrons to waltz around the music.

Akane's mouth hit the floor, her eyes greedily taking in the posh setting. She looked across the table over the candelabrum at Genma. "I still don't understand. Why am I here?" She paused in thought, "Is this about your son, Ranma?"

Genma sipped his wine and leaned back comfortably in his cushion chair. "Incidentally, this has nothing to do with Ranma," he said, "but more with you." He took another sip. "You look ravishing tonight, Akane." He smirked briefly

Her eyes widened in alarm, "Me?" Disregarding his compliment, she asked earnestly, "Why me? What do you want from me?"

He simpered a smile so sinfully enigmatic she found it difficult to maintain eye contact. "Absolutely nothing," he said, "just you."

What little appetite she had just went down the drain, and when her salmon dish was placed in front of her, despite its mouthwatering smell, she could only poke it around with her fork. The man across the table, however, had no qualms eating everything in sight. She imagined he'd eat the candle like a carrot stick. And what a beautifully carved candlestick it was.

In fact, the entire restaurant made her feel like Cinderella at the Royal Ball, the clock about to strike 12 at any moment. The cellos, violins, harps, flutes, and the grand piano completely made of transparent glass, wove their song hypnotically down her bare skin, through strands of her hair, into her head, and into her chest so that her heart pumped in beat with the classic jazz. Lights glittered and reflected tiny rays of imperceptible rainbows throughout the room from the hanging crystals of the chandeliers, almost as beautiful as the stars. Akane wanted to reach up and encase her hand around one, maybe to make a wish.

She felt gorgeous. She felt rich.

She tried to imagine having this surreal feeling for the rest of her life.

Her vision of lights was blocked by Genma who stood in front of her with his hand outstretched.

"Dance with me."

Her hand mindlessly drifted to land gently on his, and the rest of her numb body was slowly tugged off her seat to follow him to the dance floor. All the while the silver sparkles of her dress attracting many eyes in the restaurant. The people murmured, they whispered, they watched, and some even joined them on the dance floor. Akane shivered in the thrill of being the center of attention. People who joined the dance floor, nodded and smiled at her, treating her like one of them – the aristocrats.

She didn't even notice her feet automatically fall into a quick-paced waltz lead by Genma.

_Was this what they meant when they said 'being swept off your feet?'_

_Was this what they meant by 'being treated like a queen?'_

She closed her eyes, and her head arched back slightly, to simply take in the atmosphere. In the midst of her champagne-filled, music-seduced mind, she realized Genma twirled her around adding to the rush of sensation. Her long dress flared out, the single long slit revealing her smooth creamy leg. And she felt wonderful.

From the soft taps of women's heels on the wood floor, to the classical instruments in the center of the room, and the silverware, the crystal champagne and wine glasses, Akane could only hear and breathe the enchantment of high society.

And she kept spinning and spinning.

……

She didn't know how long they danced, she didn't know how many glasses they shared, and she didn't know how many hours have passed. All she was aware of was that the clock never rang at midnight and her dress remained in place.

But her bones were weary, her limbs like boneless rubber, and her spine whined in pain. If not for the intake of wine and champagne, she was sure her head would've been pounding, similar to being beat by a hammer. Akane was vaguely aware that she was held firmly against Genma's chest by his strong arm around her waist and her head rested against his chest, over his heart. She blinked tiredly and tried to put some space between them, but his arm was unrelenting.

Dead tired was an understatement.

Considering the day she's had, it was really not her fault. Her day started out with an early morning class at school, that ridiculous energy-sapping fight with Ranma, the long four-hour shift at the hospital, and now, this – Genma's irrational, sick, demands.

This was just about all that she could stand.

"Excuse me, uh, _sir_, but I really think I should get going, now," she lifted her head and tried to look assertive even with her head lolling from side to side from her drunk tired state.

He looked down at her, a small knowing smile on his face that made her stomach churn. "Shhh," he shushed her and his hand pressed her head against his chest once more.

She ducked from his hand and lifted her head again, "No, really. I want to go home. I'm very tired." A slice of reality cut through the fog surrounding her mind, and she blinked rapidly as a tiny spark of rationality returned her to her normal state. She pulled away, trying to free herself from his locked-tight arm. Her hand pushed at his chest. "Let go."

But he kept dancing, spinning her around the dance floor to the never-ending music and ageless patrons with their diamonds and gold.

"I said, let go!" She raised her voice a notch, causing only the nearby dancers to look their way.

He only tightened his hold further. "Be a good girl and stay silent, Hitomi," he murmured.

Akane froze upon hearing the name.

"What did you call me?" she asked barely above a whisper. A thousand denials swam in her mind, and her skin crawled with disgust. A chill ran down her back, and the temperature of the room dropped drastically. The lights weren't so warm anymore, and the music wasn't so inviting anymore.

When he didn't answer, she pulled away with more vigor, and fisted her hands to hit him on the chest. "I said let go you freak!"

Some people gasped and stared in their direction but she didn't care. She wanted to escape as soon as possible from this crazy web she was lured into. "I'm not my mother, you sick fuck! Let go!"

And he did. She fell to the floor.

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind but was distracted by a familiar voice from the entrance of the restaurant.

"Outta my way!" A pigtailed boy flipped over the blockade of waiters and ran in her direction with the maitre d' trailing after him, begging him to calm down. "Akane!" His head whipped around the room and finally landed on her fallen form on the floor.

"Ranma!" She cried out before she could stop herself.

Men in suits and sunglasses appeared from the corners and ran towards him trying to hold him back. It was like watching water flow around the black figures of Genma's bodyguards. Ranma evaded, blocked, and moved like live liquid, flowing gracefully and forcefully around his opponents. Akane couldn't help but admire his form, the strong leg that sprang up in the air, kicking a man in the face, the tense arm that shot forward, catching a man by the throat and throwing him to the floor.

_I wonder what it would be like to dance with him._

The cocking of numerous guns caught her attention, and she looked up to see Genma gone and, in his place, a group of men with weapons aimed at Ranma. At that moment, other patrons ran and screamed in havoc, desperately exiting the restaurant.

Time slowed like tar, she spun to cry out at him, to warn him of bullets that were impossible to dodge, but when she turned he was already a foot away from her, his hand reaching out to grab her. She gave no resistance when he wrapped an arm around her and leapt behind the liquor bar. That's when the gunshots rang out deafening her world. The liquor bottles lined up against the wall behind the bar, popped and burst from the bullets, and Ranma completely wrapped her with his body to shield her from pieces of flying glass. She huddled close to him and covered her head with her arms.

When the last of the ammo ran out, and silence filtered in from the group of men refilling their artillery, Ranma shoved off his coat and wrapped her with it before jumping out of the bar to take advantage of the pause. From behind the bar, she could hear the sounds of guns falling to the ground, men crying out, tables breaking, glass shattering, and silverware spilling onto the floor.

Feeling left out, she peeked above the bar and instantly locked her eyes on the pigtailed boy. Two suited men were left, and they advanced on him simultaneously from both sides. He used a table for leverage, lifting himself with a jump, and spun around performing a flawless round-house kick, knocking out both men.

Akane noticed another man creep up behind him, but before Ranma could turn and finish the pathetic man off, an unbroken bottle of vodka crashed against the side of the man's head, and he crumpled to the floor. Surprised, Ranma glanced at Akane who was still behind the bar with a rather large grin on her face.

He shook his head ruefully. "Such a hellcat," he uttered.

Picking up a cracked bottle of hard liquor, Ranma grabbed her hand and rushed out of the restaurant. She picked up a bottle of her own on her way out, knowing she'll need it later on.

……

There was actually nothing funny about their predicament, and there was nothing funny about the number of people who either got injured or killed. But the two laughed into the night, running and tripping to their destination, their hands never letting go of each other. They took large swigs of liquor from their bottles, spilling it everywhere on them and on the street. Once, they had to stop moving completely because she was laughing too hard to breathe. Ranma, snickering himself, handed her his bottle, scooped her up bridal style, and hopped on the rooftops to the University dorm.

He snuck them into Yuka's room through the window to avoid confrontation with any students that might still be up and roaming the hallways. Gingerly, he laid a dozing Akane onto the bed, and her arms slipped down from around his neck. He rubbed the pad of his thumbs across the dark circles underneath her eyes, and brushed her bangs from her forehead. Even in sleep, her worn out expression did not ease from her face.

He unpinned the rose in her hair, laying it on the table beside the bed. Her glowing silver dress shimmered with every movement she made in her sleep. He had to admit she looked stunning in it. Unconsciously, his hand ran down her smooth bare arms, and his eye caught sight of a bare leg that escaped the slit of her dress.

Ranma wished she was awake again to yap at him and distract him.

"That bastard," he seethed. He had no idea what Genma's intentions were but 'pure' they were not. Standing up, he had half the mind to go search out the stupid man and resume their unfinished fight, if only to satisfy his thirst for a brawl.

He didn't care what Genma did with Xian Pu or other under-aged girls, but fooling around with Akane was taking it a step too far. She had nothing to do with their business and their family.

Just an innocent girl, tutoring him and basically making his life a living hell.

Akane turned in her sleep, mumbling, "Ranma."

He was down by her side in an instant. "Akane?" Her regulated breathing and lightly close eyelids told him she was still deeply slumbering.

"Stay," she breathed out in a soft whisper.

He could do nothing else.

……

The figure with his trademark pigtail hanging from the back of his head stepped out of the dorm building. Shifting only his narrowed eyes, he surveyed the area. It was still early in the morning, the sun barely peeping over the low hills and landscape of small apartment houses. One or two students were out strolling the campus, and a single car zoomed by, its engine echoing in the far distance.

He slipped on his black Armani sunglasses. Ranma idly fixed the collar of his opened sky-blue shirt, continuously keeping an eye on his surroundings. Cuffing his sleeves up to his elbows, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his khakis, and walk away with long easy strides.

……

"Have you seen Akane?"

Ranma looked up in surprise at the question and at the person who asked it. "Not since yesterday," he answered, a hint of boredom lurking in his expression.

Ryouga, who had been lounging on the grass next to him, perked up with interest. Despite their luxurious position in the cool dark shade of a large oak tree, the boys squinted, crinkling their noses, as they peered up at two girls standing over them.

Nerima University boasted its campus green, a large lawn spread in the dead center of the campus. Various department buildings surrounded the 'green,' as students fondly called it, and it was the place for activities, get-togethers, lounging, studying under the sun, and tanning. Two or three Frisbees flew across the lawn now and then, with the occasional soccer ball.

MIA Students were usually found wasting away under the various trees on the 'green' – students like Ranma and Ryouga.

"We haven't heard from her all day," Yuka sighed, "And she _never _misses class! She would call one of us if there was an emergency." The girls settled themselves comfortably, sitting Indian style, on the shaded grass. "Hi, Ryouga," she added.

He smiled briefly at her before his eyebrows furrowed again. "Who was the last person to see her yesterday?"

"Probably her family," Ranma shrugged. He sat transfixed at the sight of a red ant crawling across his hand.

"Actually," Yuka rolled her eyes at him, "She never made it home. I told them _you _were the last person who saw her."

"What!" He cried out. The ant was brutally flung off his hand a yard away. "Why did you have to go and do that!" He flopped back to the grass, burying his face in his hands. He moaned pitifully. "Now the Queen Bitch will be up my ass until the little runaway decides to come home!"

"Wow, how many brain cells did you burn to deduce that correctly?" Nabiki's voice filtered into the group. Like a desert mirage – not quite an oasis but more like a stone well _without a bucket_ – the classy sharply-dressed young woman walked up to them and crossed her arms across her chest, ready to reprimand the delinquents.

"None, it hardly requires any thought," he replied dryly. He passed her a sloppy mock salute. "Tendo."

"Where is she, Saotome?" She demanded. Akane's friends marveled at her direct approach, cutting through the frivolous introductions and friendly buildup. When she wanted answers, she wanted answers.

"I don't know," he emphasized each word. "I'm not her fucking babysitter."

"No, she's _your_ fucking babysitter," she drawled. "Where is she?"

"No idea," he shrugged. "Besides, I'm quite amused by the fact that the great Nabiki Tendo doesn't know something – and it happens to be the whereabouts of her own kid sister." A Cheshire grin stretched slowly across his face. "Losing your touch, are you?"

"Eat shit."

"Are you recommending it from experience?"

"Eat shit and die, asshole."

"Such a potty mouth." He smiled smugly at his double-entendre to his own amusement. The rest of the group members, sans Nabiki, listened to the tête-à-tête with trepid fascination.

It was like watching a praying mantis battle it out with a killer bee. They just wanted to jump to the part where she was supposed to rip his head off…without the mating ritual, of course.

She snorted, "Talk about the pot calling the tea kettle black."

"GUYS!" Yuka cut in loudly. "Focus, guys, focus! This is not bringing Akane back!" Sayuri and Ryouga sighed tiredly, feeling the early warning signs of a headache. Why was it, that none of the Saotome's and Tendo's got along?

Nabiki glared at the girl, before returning her attention to Ranma. "Where is she! Last warning!"

"Or else what?"

Silence settled over the group, unable to imagine what horrors Nabiki would conjure up against the idiotic boy. There were two entities that were not to be tested in the Nerima district of Tokyo. One was, obviously, the Yakuza. And the other was, ultimately, Nabiki Tendo. She knew the deepest darkest secrets that not even the owner was aware of. She knew one's fears before he could experience it. (And if he didn't have a phobia, she _gave_ him something to fear.) And worst of all, she held no reservations in using all this information to fit her needs, victims be damned.

Nabiki Tendo was pulling out the big guns.

"Or else," she paused, "I tell our new circle of friends, present company included, about you-know-who."

It was a shiny, big, bazooka.

Sayuri spoke for the first time, cunningly asking, "Who?"

Nobody answered her innocent query. Everyone else shifted uncomfortably, itching with curiosity and yet terrified to know. After all, only Ryouga knew what the two had going on between them, and he looked ready to dig a hole into the ground and stuff his head in it.

While it was obvious that Ranma Saotome would have a few skeletons in his closet, maybe some still decaying, the more shocking issue at hand was the leverage Nabiki had over him because of a few buried bones. Being who he was, people expected Ranma to have a notorious past. Perhaps, some even expected him to brag about it.

Ryouga grimaced. Despite the festering tension, in his honest opinion, the two of them were being a tad overdramatic. Mentioning Ranma's past with you-know-who doing you-know-what during you-know-when hardly concerned Yuka or Sayuri. In fact, he doubted they would've even cared much.

However, irrational Ranma was adamant in keeping his past in the past any way possible. Ryouga didn't know much about psychology, but he suspected Ranma was utilizing repression. He didn't have to be a shrink to know that it was unhealthy in the long-run for the pigtailed boy. One day the boy would have to regurgitate his past demons and let it all out – like an exorcism, but worse.

In a serious tone, rarely heard from him, Ranma stood up and spoke to the Tendo sister succinctly, "I don't know where she is. I suggest we split up and look for her. If any of us find anything, well, we all have cell phones."

Nabiki nodded.

"I'll go with Ryouga!" Yuka volunteered loudly, stepping up beside him. He looked down at her in shock. She smiled harmlessly, and started to physically drag him in a random direction.

"Uh," Sayuri moved towards him but stopped herself when the two disappeared behind a building. "I'll…I'll go see if Ryunsuke has heard anything," she paused, "though, I doubt he would help me." Her shoulders slumped over and she went off in her own path, leaving Ranma and Nabiki.

"Whatever," Nabiki shrugged, turning around to go back where she came from, "I'll look for her down this area."

He waited till she was out sight. Hiding a gleeful grin, he blew out a short monotone whistle. Almost immediately another man his age appeared beside him.

The man, also a student of the University, took off his non-prescription eyeglasses and nodded respectfully at him.

Ranma patted him lightly on the shoulder.

"Good job, Hiro," he said, and he headed for the dorm once again.

…

Nabiki cursed under her breath, digging her delicate heels viciously into the grass as she walked. Her primly manicured hand searched her handbag roughly moving the contents around inside. Victoriously, she brought out a cigarette pack, sighing contently at the sight.

She wasn't really big on smoking, but during high-strung stressful moments like these, a quick smoke was as effective as a hammer – it nailed the spot.

With a flick of her wrist, she flipped the pack upside down to her waiting palm. Not one slim cancer stick fell out. She furrowed her slim, pristinely plucked eyebrows, and crushed the empty pack with her hand. Emitting a growl that would've had Akane proud, she threw it back into her bag, bringing out a cell phone, instead.

She punched a few buttons with her long glossy cerulean nail. Flinging her hair from her ear, she brought the phone to her oval face. The first ring hadn't finished its round when it was picked up on the other end.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm on the south end of the 'green.' Bring me a pack of fucking cigs, _now._"

Snapping her slick silver phone shut, Nabiki plopped herself onto a nearby bench. She wouldn't have been half as angry as she was if she didn't know that someone had lied to her. Somewhere, in her questionings, someone, some ass-picking dipshit, lied to her – to _her._

And _nobody _lied to Nabiki Tendo.

She was well aware that Ranma had blatantly lied to her. But he was as untouchable as she was, and bugging him about it would only end in a stalemate with empty threats and poisoned words. And he knew it. That filthy mongrel _knew _it.

The family was worried. Kasumi had been a mess in the morning from lack of sleep, and their father had skipped both dinner and breakfast – nibbling away on his celery sticks – moaning and whining about his missing "baby girl." If Akane remained missing for the rest of the day, they would have to report it to the police tomorrow. She was as good as dead if it came to that. The police never found any missing persons.

But, that was not their problem since Nabiki knew Ranma had the whereabouts of her sister. The bastard was just not sharing the information with anyone else. And if Nabiki didn't know any better, she would've guessed that sly weasel Hiro had lied to her under Ranma's orders.

Hiro had been in the most unfortunate position between the two most feared people on campus, and he had been forced to make a stand. He chose Ranma. Which was understandable, Nabiki reasoned. After all, what was one's reputation when his _fingers_ were at stake?

Of course, the Yakuza was past such silly tortures and rituals, but the more inveterate, like Genma and mostly likely his son, probably kept up with traditions, such as collecting fingers.

_Oh, well, _she thought, _everyone needs a hobby_.

A lanky thin boy slowly sneaked his way next to her on the bench. He ducked his head, shaggy hair covering his eyes, and he held out a pack of cigarettes. His uneven breathing and disheveled clothes clearly confirmed that he ran as if the hounds of hell were after him.

Without even sparing him a glance, she reached over and snatched the pack, opening it immediately. Seconds later, a white stick dangled between her shiny rouge lips. The boy dug into his pocket and brought out a lighter, sparking it to life under the tip of the cig. Once a thin stream of white smoke drifted from the end, she waved him away carelessly, never once looking in his direction.

She hated cigarettes. Nabiki deeply took in the bitter acrid taste, feeling her insides burn and melt all the stress away. Above all else, she hated smokers.

A while later when her cigarette burned up halfway, she twisted her head to see the shaggy-haired boy still standing alert next to the bench.

"Do you have something to tell me?" She asked.

"Uh, no."

"Then, get lost."

He edged away, glancing at her dubiously.

"Scram."

….

Yuka carefully eyed her reflection on the window of the pastry shop as they walked by. Seeing that everything was in place and orderly, she returned her attention back to Ryouga with newly acquired confidence. They had been walking for some time around the edge of the campus, and he hadn't said a word to her except for the random "this way" or "that way." Frankly, she was starting to feel a bit put out.

"So, tell me about yourself, Ryouga," she tiled her head cutely, her ponytail swinging to and fro, like a puppy's wagging tail. Despite her plain look and average style, she played it up as best as she could, using all the sass and cuteness she could muster. The head-tilt was the trick.

He avoided her eyes, shrugging, "There's really not much to say."

She pouted. Hell if that wasn't discouraging…

_Tell me everything, _she thought_, tell me why you look so sad all the time, why you only smile genuinely for Akane and Sayuri, why you keep to yourself with your silent ways. Tell me what you dream of every night, what you want for the future, what you wake up for every morning. Tell me if you look for stars in the twilight of the setting sun, which one you wish upon, what you wish for. Tell me what you fear, what I can do to keep you safe, what keeps you strong. Do you like walking in the spring rain? Do you like sugar and milk with your coffee? Do you think love lasts forever? I want to know about you._

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

She almost smacked herself. _You stupid, stupid girl!_

His step faltered almost unnoticeably. One problem with girls was that they asked unnecessary questions. They had an uncanny knack for digging under a guy's skin and knowing exactly what buttons to push to make him react to their wishes. Even the girl with unwashed hair, thick nerdy glasses, thick bushy unibrow, and yellow buck teeth, knew by instinct how to ask that one question to make a guy sputter either in surprise, or in this case, horror. And Yuka was anything but a girl as such.

With her head tilted over in just the right angle and those large hazel eyes blinking at him with misty long eyelashes, she was cute enough to snuggle.

Then again, it had been a long time since a girl tilted her head in his direction. Most of his years were spent watching from the sidelines as all of the female population tilted their airy little heads at Mr. Hotshot Ranma.

"I guess," he finally answered.

Her smile blossomed in full bloom, and he felt his cheeks burn up. Another problem with girls was their smile. Somehow, a smile beautified a girl a hundred-fold to make a guy's knees weak and wobbly. With a smile, these vixen creatures could seduce any unsuspecting guy to wilt under their command. Even the girl with unwashed hair, thick nerdy glasses, thick bushy uni-brow, and yellow buck teeth could smile and manage to look, marginally, acceptable. It was all in the smile.

Her thick black eyelashes forming rainbows as she smiled her pearly whites, spreading those glistening pink lips, she was cute enough to kiss.

But a vision of short stands of sparkling sapphire hair, followed by melting milk-chocolate eyes glowing with hidden raw passion and simple innocence, made him walk into a telephone pole.

"Oh my god!" Yuka cried out, reaching for his arm. "Are you okay?" A few pedestrians snickered and pointed as they walked by, and she glared daggers at them.

She quickly ushered him in an alleyway between buildings, and rested him against the wall. Gently removing his hand from the bump on his forehead, Yuka inspected the bruise creasing her forehead. In a feathery touch, her fingers glided over the injury across his head, her face leaning close into his.

"Silly Ryouga," she murmured affectionately, and his heart clenched.

"Yuka," he nudged her away only an inch, afraid to hurt her physically and emotionally.

She giggled, like small golden bells in his ears, and she flipped around to rest her back against the brick wall beside him. "You'd think as a gang member, you'd have more skill and experience with the girls. You're as shy as a freshman boy."

"Yuka," he tried again to no avail.

"But," she coyly scraped the gravel floor with the toe of her shoe, ducking her head bashfully, "I like you that way."

He mirrored her move, toeing the ground and ducking his head, unable to say anything.

He felt like an asshole. Now was the time to tell her honestly and candidly that he liked someone else. Specifically, her friend. He shouldn't hesitate to set things straight and do her a favor by telling her now before anything feelings grew. He would be the scum of all scums if he didn't tell her right at this moment. _Now, Ryouga!_

But he paused. How many girls looked his way lately? When was the last time a girl confessed to him in such a sweet manner, bringing his high school dream to life? (Never mind the fact that he was now in college.) He would have to be complete moron to let this opportunity slip from his grasp.

God, he really was an asshole, no better than Ranma.

"Yuka," he sighed, "I'm not, uh, there's…that is…I…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

An uncomfortable silence reigned over them regardless of the honking cars and bustling people outside the alley. Yuka tried to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Tears were for losers, her father always said, and she wasn't someone to give up so easily. Perhaps she had already known it would turn out this way. For some reason, she wasn't all that surprised.

"What is it?" She feigned ignorance.

"Nothing," he forced on a smile, which she returned in the same fashion.

"Well, anyway, let's get back outside and look for that runaway brat. This is probably an act for attention, as if she doesn't get enough of it already," Yuka rolled her eyes heavenward as she started for the entrance of the alleyway. "I hope Ranma has had better luck since he was the last person with her. Honestly, he could've shown a bit more concern for his missing tutor." She grumbled.

Ryouga followed her out, coughing to the side. "Actually, he wasn't the last person with her."

She halted in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to look at him curiously.

He coughed violently to the side under her gaze. "_I_ was."

……

Ranma rapped on the door, looking down both ends of the hallway in the dorm. A few doors were left wide open, and students roamed from dorm room to room, procrastinating and mucking about. The door in front of him edged open and a single brown eye appeared from behind the thin crack. The rest of the door was swung open to reveal a pitch black room with closed curtains… which suited him just fine.

He idled by the doorway as Akane drifted around the room, picking up random belongings. Gathering the simmering silver cocktail dress and matching diamond studded shoes, she stuffed everything in a bag. She looked back, giving the room a once over to make sure nothing was left behind, and he followed her out.

Despite recent events, they had a difficult time bringing up something to talk about. It didn't help that the whole situation seemed a bit taboo, though not quite. The elevator ride down had been stiff and numbingly soundless except for the _ding_ of the bell upon arrival.

Akane was dolorously surprised to find that the sun was still out, if low, but still up and shining in the afternoon. She clenched her eyes shut and retracted back a few steps as she left the building. A pained moan escaped her lips catching Ranma's attention.

Something cool brushed against her face and she opened her eyes to see the world a shade darker than before. He had slipped his sunglasses on her face. Dazedly she touched the glasses with her fingertips, staring up at him in wonder.

He looked elsewhere, scouting the area, and with his hands loosely in his khaki pockets, he started for his house. "Let's get this tutoring thing done early today."

Akane ran a few steps to catch up with his long strides, "Why?"

"So you can go home earlier."

She pouted. "But I don't want to go there," she said weakly.

"Stop dawdling," he snapped, "he's not at home anyway."

"Why can't we just go to my house?" She inquired.

"Too much noise in your house," he frowned, "makes it impossible to study."

"You? Study?" Akane halted her gait and stood bewildered. "Now there's something you don't hear everyday," she mumbled to herself.

"Cute," he said deadpanned, "real cute."

They took some time to reflect, walking peacefully and briskly. She didn't understand why he was in such a hurry. But then again, she wasn't up for another argument. So in a rare moment of acquiescence, she pleasantly kept up with him, shoulder to shoulder.

Then again…

"Well, how do you know it's loud?" She perched her hands on her hips. "You've never been there."

He scoffed, "It's obvious for all you big households. Nabiki will be typing on her keyboard with that _click clack _sound and occasionally yap on her cell phone. There'll probably be some kind of noise from the kitchen, pots banging, knives chopping, water running. And your dear old pop will watch a game show with the volume up high due to his gradual loss of hearing."

Slowly, her hands slid down from her hips and she petulantly slumped her shoulders, her lips still forming a pout.

They stood in front of the famous Saotome gates, and she finally spoke, "You really thought this out, didn't you?"

She never received an answer. Instead, the iron gates moaned open for the two awaiting entrants. He walked her up to the front door and inside without a word. Already late in the afternoon, the rays spread orange-red hues into every crook and cranny within the house, however all lights were remained off. Not a single lantern was lit, and not a single sound was made. And Mrs. Saotome was no where in sight.

"Hey," she searched the living room as they walked by, "where's your moth–"

She stopped abruptly spotting a scantily-clad, abundantly curvaceous, young woman with amethyst strands of hair, crowning her head in a loose bun and small curls drifting down her face and neck.

Akane started when she felt Ranma grab her hand between them. She glanced at him, but he was staring hard at the lovely woman standing in front of them in the hallway. The lady, who had her eyes solely on him, drifted her gaze down to their intertwined fingers. Feeling terribly self-conscious, Akane pulled her hand trying to free herself from his iron grip. It was like Chinese handcuffs – the harder she pulled the stronger his grip got.

"Let go, jerk," she hissed at him, tugging more nonetheless.

"Ranma," the woman called out accusingly at him, meanwhile surprising Akane unnoticeably.

Akane had been expecting a low, sultry, sensuous voice, not the melodic, child-like lilt. It didn't quite suit her, and Akane felt comforted in knowing that her own voice complemented her persona just fine.

"Who is this?" The woman asked and fixed an adorably indignant and confused frown on her delicate, doll-like face.

Feeling understandably put out, Akane spoke to answer the question, gathering as much of womanly pride as possible, despite appearing like a stumpy, geeky, pre-pubescent, 12 year old in the other lady's presence. "Hi, I'm Akane, Ranma's –"

"—girlfriend," Ranma finished.

She sputtered and whipped her head to face him in disbelief.

A wan smile grew on his unrelenting face, and an arm came up to perch across her shoulders, its grip tightening meaningfully. His eyes flickered on her before returning back to the stunned woman in front of them.

Akane forced on a smile of her own, resembling a scowl instead, and she answered with a weak puny laugh, "Yeah, girlfriend… I guess." Her eyes rolled to the side and glowered at him.

Ranma and Akane heard a sound from behind them, and they glanced over their shoulders to see Ryouga standing in the hallway, his eyes wide with shock.

……

**AN:** this freakin chapter is 21 pages which is way over my regular quota. Sorry if it was such a drag to read. I don't like to read long stuff either. But I hope it was entertaining. Hey! Since it was a long chapter you'd better leave long reviews:P pahaha, nah, just kidding. You're welcome to flame me for writing such a long and boring chapter. It's no skin off my back. (grin)

……

_Artichokes are like humans: you have to go through so much to get to the heart_. _Kathy Good_


	7. Chapter 7

**Possession**

By Sodalicious

**Chapter 7**

The slam of the front door echoed throughout the house. Nabiki stormed into the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, muttering incoherently to herself. It was already nightfall, and nobody had phoned in the whereabouts of Akane, particularly Ranma.

"Oh, welcome home, Nabiki," Kasumi's voice soothed her nerves but only by a fraction.

Kasumi stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a book in her hand implying she had been reading. Her usual white apron was absent and her hair was pinned up in a neat yet sloppy bun. She had calmed down noticeably since Akane's disappearing act, no doubt the workings of Tofu and his magic touch… purely on a professional level, of course. Her shoulders were no longer up to her ears, and her eyebrows no longer cinched together above the bridge of her nose. She seemed to have regained her utmost confidence that Akane would return, unharmed. And for that, Nabiki was thankful.

"Nabiki's here?" Soun Tendo whined from the living room. "Is Akane with her?"

"No," Nabiki answered smoothly, "but I know where she is, she'll be home tonight."

Nabiki Tendo may have been many things – caustic, mendacious, avaricious – but among her list of virtuous qualities, ignorant wasn't one of them. Nabiki would've betted her entire life-savings that her sister was in the company of that pigtailed jackass. Of course, leave it to Ranma to have his cell phone number changed without anybody's knowledge, except for maybe his mother, thus rendering any contact with him impossible. If he hadn't been Ranma, she would've been very suspicious, but it didn't make her any less curious.

He hadn't always been a spoiled, crabby reclusive.

At least, not until that _girl_. At the time of the whelp's betrayal, Ranma had been absolutely livid with teeth-gnashing-eye-twitching-bone-cracking fury. What happened to his anger? His wrath for her betrayal? Now, he was just a meat-popsicle capable of only brooding and beating the living shit out of others. That "I'm mean, green, and pissed enough to rip your spleen" image may have been appealing to some girls, but to others, it was a major turn-off, in Nabiki's ever-so accurate opinion.

She shared his eternal frustration with his inability to pick a clear path. His capricious ways have been most inconvenient to the Tendo girl. He was a faulty bug in her organized system of human-analysis and statistical calculations of psychological predictions, and he was evolving into a fucking virus.

Normally, she was an overflowing well of information, some good and some bad, but, despite what people may have thought, she wasn't an omniscient god. Although, she was so damn close, it was scary. But, as all deities probably realized, people weren't simply two-dimensional characters of predictable, determined, invariable behaviors. They were complex creatures of fathomless intricacies living in their lies, woes, and regrets. She couldn't always correctly foresee the choices that people made or the convoluted muddle of emotions they festered in all the time.

If she did have such a power, she wouldn't be playing these games.

And she would've predicted that on the night Akane went AWOL, her cell phone battery would die. Typical. All the technology in the world farts with the result of one dead battery. The irony almost made her laugh.

_Almost_.

Nabiki trudged tiredly to the stairs, her head pounding and her eyes straining. She was going to soak in her bath until her fingers and toes got all prune-y and relax to some quality ambient music.

"Oh, by the way," Kasumi emerged from the kitchen again. "There was a phone call for you earlier, said you weren't picking up your cell."

Nabiki raised her eyebrows. She always picked up her cell. "Who was it?"

"He didn't say. He was looking for Akane, but in her absence, requested for you. He wanted to tell you that he's looking forward to knowing Akane more," Kasumi creased her eyebrows perplexed, "Do you know if Akane's seeing anybody?"

……

Now, if everyone had a gun in their hands, it would've been one hell of a Mexican standoff. Akane was certain the lady with the purple cotton candy hair would've aimed at her. As for her own gun, she would probably beat Ranma over the head with it, since shooting him up would be murder in the first degree (second, if she got lucky), punishable by death… that is, if the purple-headed twit didn't kill her first.

Sandwiched between the Purple Mae West and the Bodyguard, the whole situation seemed a bit ridiculous to Akane, like a lame soap opera. She could almost hear the cheesy, high-tension, organ playing the background. When was her cue to just slap the other female character across the face? She had no idea as to why the woman was glaring laser beams at her, and she had no idea why Ryouga looked as if Ranma had just killed his favorite house plant.

On the other hand, who got her into this sticky mess in the first place?

The other woman devoted her attention on Akane, giving the girl a full, thorough, head-to-toe gaze. And the longer she stared, the deeper her frown creased.

Akane certainly did not appreciate the hostile look. She half expected the woman to hiss and attack her like a rabid cat.

So maybe she didn't have luscious purple locks, large lavender feline eyes, or "bouncy" rounded breasts. Nor did she have a slim waistline easily spanned by a man's hands or hips that flared out down to long shapely legs. But Akane was every bit a woman as the bitch staring her down. She had her own redeemable qualities that made her attractive, unique, and proud to be a female. Like… Such as…

As in…

_Her nose!_ Akane prided herself in having a cute button-nose.

Though, from certain angles, her nose looked oddly bulbous. _So?_ She thought defensively to herself. _That woman's nose was abnormally straight, ridiculously narrow, and… and…_ Akane deflated… _chiseled like a statue, a look of sophistication and elegance. _

Ranma's large warm hand encircled her wrist interrupted her self-pity thoughts, and pulled forcibly dragging her into his room. In her numb state, she realized he had left both people standing in the hallway, leaving them to fight their own battles. He fled the scene, she thought aghast. Nevertheless, relief flooded into her system the minute they entered the room, like a breath of fresh air.

Once inside, he shrugged off his collar shirt casually and tossed it carelessly onto his bed as though he hadn't just walked out of a high-tension war zone. Donned only in his white t-shirt, she privately admired the flexing of his biceps, his smooth hard chest, and she didn't even dare let her eyes roam lower than his impressive abs.

Pity, his personality wasn't up to par with his physical attributes.

As if reading her thoughts, he turned and faced her with a blank expression. She started and swallowed down a squeak, remembering herself and the fact that she was standing dumbly in the middle of the room. Clearing her throat, Akane brushed her short tresses away from her face.

"What possessed you to say something stupid like that?" She asked. Inwardly, she gave herself brownie points for handling it like a mature woman.

"Her name's Xian Pu, my father's mistress," he explained, "She has a thing for me. So I lied…" Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Though it pained me to do so considering my options."

Akane narrowed her eyes, giving him a dirty look. "Of all the dumbest, retarded, immature, juvenile, ludicrous, impossible, preposterous, _obnoxious_, things you've done," she ranted, "this one surely tops the cake!"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!" Ranma snapped, matching her tone.

"You probably think that every female has 'a thing' for you," She said dryly, and she sat at her usual spot next to the low table.

The idea that Ranma might have thought of himself as every woman's fantasy wasn't without merit. Every female he came across _did_ have a thing for him. However, Akane didn't have to know that. She surely didn't _want_ to know that.

"I didn't say 'every female.' I said 'my father's mistress' has a thing for me!" Ranma yelled. "And _you_ probably think every male is a horny bastard." He threw his jacket violently onto his bed, flopping down on it afterwards. Women were such a pain, mainly the one sitting on the floor in his room.

"You are absolutely right," she insisted, "You forgot to mention that you men are also repugnant, licentious blowhards."

Ranma pretended he knew what those words meant, and 'blowhard' certainly came off sounding like an insult, especially when she said it like _that_. "Well, maybe they act that way only towards you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You bring out the worst in people, particularly me." He stabbed a thumb to his chest.

"You _are_ the worst of people," she snapped. "And just for the record, you're not a thrill to be around either."

"This is the thanks I get for saving your ass last night."

"It's the least you could do for my tutoring services. Oh dear," she mocked gasped, "speaking of which…" Wordlessly, Akane opened one of the textbooks lying on the table, 'Human Development.' Her pretentious display of diligence and motivation did not impress him in the least. But he begrudgingly sat down across the table and opened his notebook.

"This conversation isn't over," Ranma said.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but returned her attention to the textbook.

"Why were you having dinner with him anyway?" He scowled. "That's sick."

In blind fury, she grabbed an eraser lying innocently on the table and flung it at his forehead where it rightfully bounced off and landed back to its original place. "I didn't play your father's arm-decoration voluntarily! I was kidnapped! _Kidnapped!_" At his lack of a response, she continued, "In fact, I think the one who has some explaining to do is _you_, since you know your father best out of the two of us."

"Why would he take you out when he has a girl like Xian Pu?"

She did not like the path this was heading…

"I mean, you're… you, and she's gorgeous. You're like a child compared to her." He hummed and hawed. "You're plain, average, like the girl next door. While on the other hand, she's exotic, sensual, sexy. She's everything you're not. You're –"

Akane's palm shot forward and smacked him on the forehead, and Ranma fell back onto the floor instantly. He lied on the ground stunned, with his arms spread out, and wide swirl-y eyes on the ceiling. "…violent," he finished under his breath.

"I get the point," she gritted out through clenched teeth. Granted, she wasn't model material, but she still had her fair share of numerous admirers. She had always been well-liked by both females and males… and creatures like dogs, cats, even pigs. It may have not been beauty, but _something _about her appealed to the populace. And if Ranma couldn't see that, then that was his problem.

He was the speck of inorganic dust floating in the festering stink of putrid dog poo.

She regarded him indifferently as he got up groaning and rubbing the front and back of his head. "But apparently, despite her dripping sexuality," she began, "your Xian Pu doesn't resemble my mother enough to his liking."

"What?"

It wasn't everyday she voiced her thoughts about her late mother, God rest her soul, having an affair with someone else's father… much less, the head of the Nerima Yakuza syndicate. It was almost blasphemous, and she felt ashamed, embarrassed, even thinking of such a possibility. Her sisters, her father, would skin her alive if she suggested such a vile thing in front of them. But, that didn't change the cold hard fact that Genma had called her by her mother's name.

After a comedic moment exhibiting a myriad of facial expressions and twitching her fingers, she cleared her throat. She asked with a minimal amount of stuttering in between, "Do you know if, if your father and my mother had, had, you know, had maybe some _very small_ and _very minor_ and _insignificant _relationship?"

"What!" He stared at her with his usual signature confused expression.

She didn't bother repeating herself.

"Wait, tell me exactly what happened," he demanded.

"I don't know, I was walking home that night from the hospital –" she froze.

"Yeah, and…" He prodded.

"Home," her eyes widened.

"Yeah, we've established that, you can continue," he said annoyed.

"No, you dolt, HOME!"

"Okay, Dorothy, there's no place like home. Now tell the rest of your story." He barked.

She gripped her short hair, gargling in frustration, "No, stupid, I forgot to call home for almost two days! They must be worried sick about me!"

Nabiki smirked and watched Kasumi hang up the phone. Akane had called, frantic, to assure the family of her well-being and safety and to promise an explanation for the unexpected disappearance. It was a pointless call since Kasumi and father were already informed by Nabiki of her whereabouts, however it didn't hurt to prove that, once again, Nabiki had been right. She loved being right.

In addition, to Nabiki's delight, Akane called using Ranma's cell phone, thus allowing her to copy and save his well-kept secret number for future reference. No doubt, Akane probably had to pry the phone out of his hands.

Kasumi had mildly scolded Akane over the phone for her carelessness and her overall neglect to attempt contact, but Nabiki was sure the youngest Tendo had good reason. Something happened, and only Akane could provide the details. The second daughter was itching for some information. She had shamefully regressed back to her old neurotic habit of counting the coins in her piggy bank, waiting for the dumb sibling to come home already.

_That girl better come home soon before I break into **her** piggy bank._

"So, is your mom not home?" Akane asked curiously. She clutched her bag protectively, though it wasn't clear whether to protect the bag or protect herself using the bag.

It was dusk, and just as the word implies, the town was dusky, the edges of buildings, walls, and trees illuminated by a soft glow from the sky. Her bones and joints ached with every step, as if coming home from a very long and strenuous hike across the country. She fought an inner battle on whether to scold Ranma for his lack of courtesy in offering to carry her book bag, or to bite her tongue and take it like the strong, proud, woman of the modern century.

"She's home, but she doesn't like it when Xian Pu's around," Ranma shrugged.

She tried to peer at his face; however, it was tilted in the opposite direction. "So, what's gonna happen?"

"Nothing, tomorrow or tonight, he will come to pick up his toy and go elsewhere."

Akane chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes on the passing bits of gravel on the street. His careless, airy, tone bothered her and for some reason, it hurt to hear him talk in such a manner. "What do _you_ do?" She asked quietly.

He looked down at her in surprise. "I don't do anything. What would _you_ do?"

"I don't know," she fidgeted, talking about problems and giving advice wasn't really her area of expertise. Nabiki and Kasumi were the help-hotline operators, not her. She was more of the 'hands-on' department, as in literally fist-fighting and ass-kicking her problems away. She imagined herself smashing her fist into Genma's teeth, or kneeing Xian Pu in the stomach.

Yes, she definitely liked her own direct approach much more than that of her sisters. Talking only slowed things down.

"I suppose I'd, uh, _discuss_ my father's extracurricular activities and try to keep it to a minimum," she euphemized.

He smirked knowingly, "Already did that. Ended up where we started. We fought, beat the shit out of each other. That filthy weasel tricked me and that was the end of that." He flexed his arms out in front of him and cracked his knuckles restlessly.

"Did he beat you up bad?"

He swerved to face her directly, "What do you take me for?" He shot back incredulously.

"I'm just asking," she held up her hands defensively, "I suppose he could kick the living daylight out of you and use you for fish bait, being who he is."

Ranma sniffed, upset that she would think so little of him, "Well, I'm just as good. We usually end in stalemate."

She snorted rudely, "That is, if he doesn't shoot you up with his gun."

They turned the corner onto her street, her home only a few houses down. Unnoticeably, her pace quickened.

"He would never shoot his only living heir. He needs a Saotome to continue in his place," Ranma smiled smugly at his logic. He stopped by the waist-high wooden gate, even as Akane walked up to the front door.

She rummaged through her bag, her hand reaching down to the bottom contents. "Right," she said distractedly, her head practically halfway into her bag, "says the _heir_ that was machine-gunned only yesterday. Why did he shoot at you anyway?"

Ranma shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "He knew I would evade them."

She looked up in surprise. _Was he really **that** good? This idiot of a boy? The same idiot that whined and whimpered under a cotton swab of isopropyl?_ She snorted inwardly, _year right_.

Seeing her undivided, if a bit spacey, attention on him, he turned around and proceeded to walk back in the direction of his home. "Besides," he added over his shoulder, "if a handsome young man came to take your lovely date away, wouldn't _you_ be pissed enough to gun him down?"

Akane's ear filtered in only one word… _Lovely_

_Lovely…_ A stupid grin spread across her face.

It wasn't after he was long gone, engulfed into the darkening sky, she was able to mumble, "If a man came to whisk my _male_ date away, I'd be more disturbed than pissed."

The moment she opened the front door, she was met with the sardonic grin of her sister, Nabiki.

"How was your night with Romeo?"

"Ugh," Akane answered gracefully, true to her role as Juliet. She rolled her eyes and kicked off her shoes. "I know, I know. I'll tell you all the details tomorrow in exchange for some sleep first!" Playfully shoving her sister aside, she drifted up the stairs and into her room, a soft smile whispering across her lazy expression.

Nabiki gazed bemusedly at the closed bedroom door adorned with the famous yellow duck. "She's head over heels."

Akane flopped herself onto her bed and her eyes wandered across the shadows and tracks of light on the ceiling. _Lovely_…

Her eyelids drifted down, a smug grin lingering on her lips.

And she decided purple was an ugly color.

Sayuri yawned and stretched languidly in the second-hand sofa, carefully balancing the textbook on her knees. Her sister was on the phone, one hand holding the phone to her ear and other hand waving in the air dramatically. Her brother was on the family computer, online, doing heaven-knows-what. As long as he stayed in the house during the nights, Sayuri didn't care if he was surfing pornographic websites.

Her eyes strayed to the clock after every eternity but only minutes went by slowly approaching midnight.

The house was warm in contrast to the nippy weather, still relatively early in the spring. Every second that passed was emphasized by the clock, and the steam rising from the coffee pot whined softly. Three thick and creamy yellow glows of three lamps lit up their house, almost tangible, almost scented of lemon cream pie.

However, Sayuri fidgeted from unrest, sighing frequently and audibly so that even her loquacious sister threw curious glances her way.

She stared blankly at the text of medical jargon and concepts spread out in her textbook. Studying to be a pharmacist wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. She would've rather gone out into the field of fashion if it only guaranteed security. With two others to consider, she didn't have the luxury to fulfill selfish dreams.

Her face softened as she turned her attention to her two siblings.

A brusque knock interrupted her thoughts. Giving the clock an uneasy glance, she ventured over to the door, asking warily, "Who is it?"

An incoherent mumble answered her query.

Unsure of the reply but recognizing the voice, she nudged the door opened, only her eye peeking through the crack. "Ryouga!"

He lifted half-closed, blood-shot, eyes before collapsing to the floor of her doorway.

"Ryu! Come here, quick!" Sayuri fluttered over the fallen figure, her eyes wide with worry. "Help me!"

When he came to, he found himself wishing to be unconscious again. He felt as if someone had stuffed cotton balls into his ears, his throat, his nose, and his mouth. Dry, stuffy, scratchy cotton dulled his awareness of the world around him. The light in the far corner of the room was too bright. That voice speaking over his head was too loud, like the voice of a giant – loud, mumbled, and incoherent. A dark shadowed loomed over his head and he squinted his eyes trying to focus.

The room was too… plain to be his room. Old-fashioned creamed colored wallpaper was peeling from the corners near the ceiling. The ceiling itself had large water marks around on edges by the walls. The air stank of old rain and damp cat fur, with a hint of mosquito repellant incense.

Nearby a fan blew softly side to side emitting a low hum, barely noticeable. At the foot of the bed, a small antique vanity stood against the wall with a mirror hanging above it. Thin lines burst out from a crack on the side of the mirror like a cobweb. However, most of the mirror was in good condition apart from the layer of dust. Atop the vanity, a few cosmetic products scattered the area, a lipstick here, a foundation there, a perfume bottle tipped over on its side. The vanity set lacked a vanity chair.

In the far corner of the room, a dim lamp stand shook as a distant train rumbled by.

He shifted in the bed. Several springs from the mattress protruded obtrusively into his back. His eyes traveled downward from the ceiling to a female figure dozing in a small wooden chair.

When he talked, he wished he hadn't. "Sayuri?"

Instantly, the figure reacted, startled. She turned bleary eyes in his direction confusedly before recognition flitted across her face. "Oh! Ryouga, how are you feeling?"

"Hung over," he groaned.

"Good grief," she glared at him, "how many drinks have you had?"

Thinking over the answer, a red hue bloomed on his face, and he turned away, answering under his breath, "Three."

"What?"

"Fifteen? Sixteen?" He said clearly. "I think, give or take."

"What in heavens caused you to drink so much!"

"I," he faltered, "I really don't know." Honestly, hearing Ranma that he and Akane were dating wasn't really an apocalyptic event. In fact, Ryouga wasn't even surprised. It was inevitable. All girls fell for that pigtailed moron in the long run.

"I don't even know why they fawn over him so much," he began. "He doesn't even treat them nicely. He's an asshole. I should know. I'm with him almost every hour of the day." He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"I'm just being a dick," Ryouga amended, "He's actually a great guy. He wasn't always an asshole. It was that bitch! That … that… that bitch!"

Sayuri remained silent, transfixed with the emotions shedding from Ryouga's face.

"She came into his life like some fucking Saint Mary. You should've seen the way she simpered and cooed at him. It was disgusting. I hated her the moment I saw her. I warned him. I did! I told him, man, she's sneaky. Don't trust her." Ryouga gravely shook his head at the memory. "Of course, he didn't listen. She drew him in those brown eyes, and swept him away with those long eyelashes." He drawled. "Or so he says," he added.

"But he was so gone on her," he lowered his voice. "so gone. He would've given her everything. He would've conquered half of this planet for her. He would've given up everything for her." Ryouga simply looked at Sayuri. "And I hated him for it."

She sat in mute shock. Was she allowed to hear this? Should she keep listening? Perhaps she would consult everything with Akane later.

"Ranma loved Ukyo so much."

Sayuri winced. Maybe not.

No more was said. Ryouga, coming to his senses, stopped talking, and Sayuri was afraid to ask. She heard a small scratch by the door and instantly knew two terrible rats were eavesdropping, not that they had any idea what Ryouga was talking about. She let them be.

"So… what caused you to drink so much and end up here?" She asked politely.

"Apparently," a flat look came down on his face, "Ranma and Akane are dating."

Sayuri almost fell off her seat. _Akane! Akane Tendo! The girl who never went on a date and called all men egotistical, horny, bastards? Impossible. _Sayuri had the urge to laugh out loud, but settled for an uncomfortable cough. "Really? She didn't say anything to me."

"Well, I just found out today from Ranma himself."

"Oh," she chewed on her bottom lip. "Why? Why do you like her?"

"I'm not sure," he frowned. "When I see her… When I see her, it's like a breath of fresh spring air. Something new, untainted, clean, and clear. There's something about her that I want to hold and keep to protect. I'm not saying she's weak or frail. But she's just… I can't describe it." He looked down at his hands. "I just want to know her better."

Sayuri closed her eyes

"But Ranma…I'm not saying he's a bad guy, but… he's just not right for her. He's so jaded. He already has a preconceived notion about all females. He breaks hearts. He's rude and careless. He'll sweep her up in his little dance and leave her alone on the dance floor."

She couldn't help but admire his use of words and metaphors…like a poet, a songwriter. Silence cloaked the room once again. She let his words sink in and settle into her memory.

"Would you like something to eat?" She asked after a while.

He grimaced.

"How about some soup to help wash down all that junk you drank?"

"Alright."

She stood up and crossed the room, making enough noise for her siblings to clear away from the door. A sudden thought crossed her mind and curiosity burned insatiably. "Oh, I hope you don't mind me asking, but… What happened to Ranma and Ukyo?"

Ryouga battled internally. He could tell her and get it off his chest. Or he could keep it in like the faithful, trustworthy, bodyguard-slash-best-friend. It was a tough decision. However, he felt, no, he knew he could trust Sayuri.

"She left him," he answered in a seemingly simple manner, "she left him for his enemy, Baek-Yong, leader of the Pai-Lung gang."

Sayuri sharply drew in a breath, instantly recognizing the gang. Her head swiveled to the closed door, which moments before was holding back muffled movements, now, eerily quiet.

She rushed out, leaving a confused bed-ridden man in the room.

--

"Bye, dad!"

"Bye, Mr. Tendo!"

"Stop."

Akane and Yuka barely missed crashing into Nabiki who stood blocking the front door. She regarded Akane knowingly.

"Aw, come on, Nabiki, we're gonna be late for class," Akane whined and inched her way around the resolute sister towards the door. "I'll tell you everything when I get back."

The second daughter of the Tendo family sighed and stepped aside as the two girls rushed by her. Gossip or not, she couldn't have them miss class for any foolish reason. But she felt it was of utmost importance to have Akane talk sooner than later, not only about the kidnapping, but about that mysterious phone call.

She had tried to trace the call, but came to a dead end with no name. How was that even possible? She had spent an hour arguing with her inside-man at the telephone company. He groveled, he pleaded. She hung up on him, immensely upset with his ineptitude.

Akane was definitely not seeing anybody. That much Nabiki knew. But that also meant that Akane had no idea some freak stalker was following her around making retarded prank calls to the house. Nabiki was not in the least amused.

She wanted to smack the oblivious youngest Tendo across the face and lock her up in a bomb shelter underground. People seemed to prey on the girl like a school of piranhas on an anchovy.

"What was that all about?" Yuka asked. She distractedly looked down both sides of the street before grabbing Akane's arm and leading them to the other side.

"Nabiki just wants some details on my disappearance."

"You mean to say, Ms. Know-it-all doesn't know it all!" Yuka cried out.

"Well, when the subject deals with the _shateigashira_, word doesn't get around much since it'll cost you your head."

Yuka stared at her deadpanned. "You have a _lot_ to tell me."

"You and Sayuri, both. So, why don't we just wait till we're all in a nice little happy group in some nice little happy café." Akane chirped sarcastically.

"Tell me now," Yuka insisted.

"It's not exactly something I want to share with other pedestrians in the street," she said dryly.

"So? No one's actually listening to us anyway."

"Well, I was walking home from the hospital—"

"Ryouga came to see you while you were there, right?"

Akane gawked. "How did you know?"

"He told me," her friend smiled a bit maniacally, Akane thought.

"Yeah well, he was just in the area apparently, and heard from Ranma or something that I was volunteering in the hospital that night. Anyways, I was walking home and —"

"What did you guys talk about?"

"Um," she made a show of trying to recall the memory. "Nothing in particular, I honestly can't remember. Listen, do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

"Of course I do!" Yuka let out a high-pitched laugh, "go on, go on."

Akane hesitated. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes! Go on! What happened after the hospital?"

She dutifully accounted the entire night in full detail excluding the part where Genma addressed her as "Hitomi." That, Akane felt, was a private matter in which she had no desire to bring up ever again. Just thinking about it spread unpleasant goosebumps down her neck and arms.

"Why didn't you contact anybody and let them know where you were?" Yuka asked. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow expectantly.

Akane hummed and hawed. Frankly, she had no idea. Just the whole absurdity of the situation caught her off guard and she really had no intelligent thought running through her mind that night. But honestly, who in the world in the middle of being whisked away by the Yakuza, being affectionately addressed by her late mother's name, being rescued by her student, and ending up asleep in a drunken state with a guy in the room would even _humor_ the idea of calling home? The thought just never crossed her mind.

She finally answered plainly with a shrug, "I guess I just got sidetracked."

"I wonder what would've happened if Ranma never showed up," Yuka looked up to the sky thoughtfully. She completely missed Akane's troubled expression as the blue haired girl blanched to a sickly pallor.

"Yeah," Akane meekly replied, "I wonder." She felt sick to her stomach, and looked around desperately in search of a trash receptacle.

"I'm just curious," Yuka shrugged oblivious to her friend's state of distress.

They treaded slowly to class – Yuka, not really thinking about anything, and Akane, trying to purge her system of unpleasant thoughts and images. She would never forgive Yuka for her deceptively innocent remark.

As if hearing Akane's mental turmoil, Yuka suddenly quipped up, "Hey, what do you teach Ranma?"

"Manners," Akane replied flatly, despite the churning in her stomach.

"No, seriously," her friend scoffed, "what do you teach that kid?"

"Well, we haven't done much lately since things are always interfering, but I'm supposed to be helping him understand the class subjects and materials."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Akane sighed. "What about you? How's your sister? The rest of the family?"

"I'm great, was rejected, sister's a pest, family's peachy, thanks," she answered in one breath. "Isn't this weather fabulous?"

"Rejected! When? By who?"

Yuka slumped into a nearby bench.

--

"So, you're not going out with her?"

"For fuck's sake, Ryouga, if I have to answer that one. More. Time. I'm going to shove the family katana _so_ far _up_ your ass, you won't be able to sit down to take dump for the next twenty-year's length of time it will take to surgically remove it!"

"Righto."

Ranma sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "She's just a bratty tutor."

"Ok."

They entered class as normal and mellow as they had been entering all their classes so far. If it wasn't for Mrs. Saotome's insistence that they obtain a diploma, they probably wouldn't have attended college. What was the point? Their whole life was already mapped out and determined, all the way down to their children's children.

It was slightly existential how they managed their lives day to day as if they weren't criminals, murderers, and highly skilled martial artists. Life was a rather odd concept to people who thoughtlessly gambled it on a daily basis.

Not that Ranma knew what "existential" meant. But, he had heard Akane use the word once and decided to add it to his vocabulary.

"I'm thinking about asking her out."

"Who?" Ranma propped his black Armani shoes onto the chair in front of him, causing the current occupant to sheepishly stand up and find another seat.

"Akane."

He snorted. "Why? Why don't you just take out one of the cuter girls staring at us in this class-" giggles shook the classroom "-and be over and done with?" Some girls scowled prettily at the implication of being discarded so easily, but couldn't ease the telltale blush from their faces fast enough.

"I don't want a girl and "be over and done with" her," Ryouga rolled his eyes. "I want to have an actual relationship, a long one… that lasts more than week, exclusively."

He slowly scrunched up his face and gave Ryouga a horrified look of disbelief. "Man, what. the. fuck. is wrong with you?" He shook his head. "I gotta find a new bodyguard. Your newfound sentimental shit is gonna get me killed."

"Eat shit," Ryouga responded unaffectedly.

Ranma smirked.

They listened dispassionately to the professor, an old frail man wearing a brown tweed jacket and a blue striped tie. He slouched in front of the chalkboard, a coat of chalk grains covering his clothing, hands, and hair, like a layer of dust. When he moved, his bones creaked and cracked in resistance, and at the start of every new sentence, he coughed brokenly in his hand.

"So do you have her number?" Ranma asked curiously, peering up at the board and back down to his notebook.

"Um no," Ryouga squinted at the blackboard trying to decipher the chicken scratch scrawled by the old man. "Do you have it? Can you give it to me?"

The two boys fell silent when the professor started to speak. Nothing particularly registered, only the movement of the ol' man's hands and the plaid patterns on his tweed jacket. After a few minutes addressing the class about some theory, he turned slowly around to write the entire formula.

"No," Ranma simply answered, his eyes on the board.

Ryouga glanced at him, confused.

--

"Down with men!"

"Hear, hear!" Akane raised her glass of Daisy cocktail, a smooth blend of gin, lemon juice, grenadine, and soda. Yuka energetically lifted her brain-cell-reducing potent drink, Long Island Iced Tea, and Sayuri responded in kind with her Palm Beach cocktail.

Trip-hop and acid jazz drummed their bodies and hummed through their blood. They had lost count of the number of drinks a while ago, and since the waiter, that hot and delicious waiter, kept taking their empty cups, they had no way of counting. But when the night was young, the club teeming with youthful single hot men and women, and the waiter was good enough to lick, the three girls really didn't care how many drinks they shared.

"I say, screw Ryouga and his fucking reservations!" Yuka slurred. "I'm the best thing that ever will happen to him, and he doesn't even know it!"

"Right! Down with Ryouga!" Akane raised her glass again, solo, and drank a gulpful.

"He just has another girl in mind," Sayuri inserted shyly, "that's not his fault."

The two other girls stared at her incredulously.

"_Why_ are you here?" Yuka snapped from her stupor. Akane busied herself to ease the situation, waving her hands about to attract attention.

"Well, do you know who he's pining over?" Akane asked in what she hoped was an encouraging voice and not an alcohol-induced-emotional-wreckage hiss.

Sayuri stared.

"I didn't think so!" Yuka shouted triumphantly. "Har har har!" She mock laughed at, evidently, nothing. She finished her cup in one swig and slammed it down hard on the table. "I'll tell you, you naïve little virgins," she pointed at a blushing Sayuri and a scoffing Akane, "dating and men are not worth shit. I've dated three so far, three long relationships that have each sliced away a good part of my life leaving me with this aging body, vulgar language, and a sick, twisted, perpetually-pissed-off outlook on all love-lives." She paused to holler at the hot waiter for another drink. "And, later, after they have vampirically sucked away your youth and your usefulness, they will leave you for younger, naïve girls that you once was. Why? WHY? **WHY!**" She cried. Some nearby listeners, also highly intoxicated and half-interested, echoed after her like parrots squawking "Why? Why? Why?"

The inane hilarity of the situation struck Akane all at once who started to laugh amidst Yuka's monologue.

She climbed up her chair, and Akane followed suit even though she had nothing to say, but it looked like fun. Yuka raised her glass above her head, "I'll tell you why! Because men are fucking blood-sucking, mindless-humping, masturbating, commitment-phobic, self-involved, LEECHES!"

To Sayuri's mortal mortification, Yuka started to narrow down on all the males surrounding her and trying to get a peek up her skirt. She pointed a perfectly manicured nail down on their noses crying, "That includes you! And you! And you! You! You! You! Not you, you're hot. But YOU! And YOU!"

Akane kicked one of the guys on the shoulder from her stance on her own chair, "Hey you, filthy leech, stop leering up her skirt! Yuka, get down and sit on your ass!"

"Oh my god," Sayuri moaned into her hands. "This is not happening. You guys are so drunk off your asses. Oh my god."

"Oh get a grip!" Akane slapped the piteous girl on the back. "We're just enjoying our lives! We don't do this every day! Men suck! It's a well known fact."

"Damn straight! Men are bastards!" Yuka jumped down from her chair to take a seat, ignoring the disappointed groans from the surrounding males.

Suddenly, Sayuri shot up from her chair, her hands fisted at her sides. She glared death-rays at the two tipsy girls and announced loudly than ever before, "Ryouga is **not** a bastard! He's the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful guy anybody will ever meet! So stop talking as if you know him!" She narrowed her attention on Akane. "And you! Stop whining! You have more guys fawning after you more than me and Yuka put together! And you know _nothing_ about Ranma or his past!"

The girls fell dumbly silent, gaping up at the heaving girl in her self-righteous fury.

The people around them moved on, bored with the lack of activity. The hot waiter bustled around the table clearing cups and bottles, and bringing newly poured ones in the process. The music continued to pound through their ears, and the lights flickered distractedly in sporadic moments. However, to three dumbstruck girls, the world stopped spinning.

"What-" Yuka began.

"Hold on a sec, Sayuri," Akane glared at the girl. "Aren't you the one who disappeared with him the first time we all met? What's all _that_ about? I think you owe us an explanation!"

Sayuri sunk into her chair, trying to be engulfed by the cushions surrounding her. She avoided all eyes and tilted her head so that her bangs shadowed her face.

"Oh, so the mouse crawled back into its hole, eh?" Yuka sneered. "You told me that you guys were just friends, and _only_ friends, nothing more. Tell me the truth, what is going on between the two of you? Didn't you say an hour ago that he came over your house last night, drunk! What the fuck is that?"

"It's nothing!" Sayuri cried, her hands digging into her hair. "It's nothing! We are NOT going out! We're just friends! Stop reading into things!"

"You're such a lying selfish bitch!" Yuka stood up again. Her red rimmed eyes matched those of Sayuri as the two lifelong friends challenged one another.

Sayuri sat in mute shock, staring up at the wretched and extremely peeved girl. In their staring match, words that were never said, words that were never meant to be said, transpired back and forth so that those words will never be said, only understood.

Yuka wanted to smack her, pull her hair and rip those pretty lips that spewed nothing but lies. But she also wanted to hug her desperately, cry in her shoulder, and hang on to every word that passed her lips.

In the same drunk slur from before, Akane broke in, "And for your information, I don't need to or want to know _anything_ about Ranma and his past! I never even _said_ I knew him. I never even _wanted_ to know him! So don't fucking mention his name in this conversation!"

Sayuri stared helplessly alternating between her two friends. Her mouth moved and formed words but remained voiceless. After a few attempts, she coughed roughly, trying to clear the clogging in her throat. "You guys don't understand, he's –"

A loud ringing interrupted her. Three girls automatically reached for their phones, and Akane answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, um this is Ryouga."

"Oh, hi…" She eyed Yuka and Sayuri. "…Ryouga."

Yuka dropped her cup.

"Yeah, sorry, I got your number from Nabiki. Listen I just wanted to know if you wanted to do lunch or a drink somewhere, maybe tomorrow?" He rushed.

Akane dropped her phone.

Sayuri groaned and smacked her palm on her forehead.

* * *

**AN:** hi! Me again! Did ya miss me? (hears the chorus of "no's") -- anyhow, before you start throwing at me all these accusations of unanswered questions and confusion, I just want to say how much I appreciate how closely you guys are reading into this story. It really makes everything worth it. Questions will be answered in due time, but feel free to voice your thoughts and confusions anyway. It will help reminding me of points that I have to cover. And! Of course, I have to say. I LOVE the reviews! ALL OF THEM! Your reviews literally got me writing again to produce chapter 7! So give yourselves a hearty pat on your shoulders. 

I know practically nothing happened in this chapter. Think of it has the lead up to the next. Chapter 8 will definitely have suspense, action, and ooh la la (wink wink. )

* * *

OKAY this for the **general public**: many of you commented that you can't see why Akane wouldn't call home and etc etc etc… I don't usually like explaining things and I didn't intend to, but since _so many_ of you brought it up, I figured I'd make an exception (grin) okay here we go: Take into account everything that Akane went through in the span of a couple of hours, plus add to the fact she drank excessively and was probably still in shock. From my past experience (not being kidnapped but being intoxicated and in a state of stupor), calling home was honestly the last thing on my mind. That and Akane is independent by nature, so.. yeah.. hmmm…maybe I misjudged? I'm very eager to hear more of your thoughts, and I promise I won't be cross or upset at ALL if you disagree with me. In fact, I can't to hear what you have to say (grin) 


	8. Chapter 8

**Possession**

by Sodalicious

**Chapter 8 teaser**

He was sixteen when he was first hit with a bullet.

It was not, by all means, because he had lacked training. Since the day he entered this godforsaken world and breathed his first sterilized hospital air, his father trained him in all sorts of mother-fucking crazy-ass martial arts to – ultimately – dodge bullets. Because, really, in this day and age, who actually dueled in hand to hand combat?

Some schmuck could spend five minutes giving a demonstration-slash-preparation of his "Crouching White Dragon Grapples with Rabid Blind Dog" punching technique, the time in which the enemy can whip out a .45 caliber and blow the moron away...twice.

Hence, Ranma wasn't the slightest bit surprised when his opponent, after an hour of swinging that katana around, pulled a gun seemingly out of his ass and fired it blindly at Ranma.

Normally, he would've been able to dodge the flying bullet easy, except Ranma voluntarily jumped into the path of the bullet.

The small cylindrical metal cone had ripped into his chest in a blink of eye. Amidst the white flash of searing pain, he literally felt the bullet pierce through his muscles, crack a bone, slice through delicate nerves, and settle itself snugly at the far back side of his torso. It was nauseating, and it had hurt like hell.

To this day, Ranma can proudly brag that he did not let out a single cry or a single traitorous tear. He gritted his teeth, clenched his eyes, and took it like a man, all the while cupping his wound with his hand. His hand slipped and slid on his chest, smearing the dark-red blood spilling from the wound. The white tuxedo shirt of his outfit was now red like wine and gritty with grime. And in a brief absurd moment of clarity, he thought, _ma's gonna have a cow when she sees this_.

Distant sirens were heard approaching the area. The bastard that fired the gun had long since run away in shock. Perhaps it had been his first time shooting a gun.

Breathing heavily from exhaustion and rapid loss of blood, Ranma leaned on a chair and rolled his head to the side to look at the person who inspired him to take a leap of faith in front of her.

She stood in the center of the room. Her once gorgeous hair, hung limply on the side of her smudged porcelain face. Glistening trails of tears washed down her cheeks with tracks of running mascara. Her long opera gloves were ripped and singed on the edges. The long glamorous baby blue gown of layers of satin and sparkling gossamer had turned into a gory rainbow of browns, reds, and blacks. Ripped patches of cloth barely hung from the curves of her youthful body in their last attempt to keep her decently covered.

And she still managed to look breathtakingly beautiful.

As Ranma drifted in and out of consciousness, his gaze never leaving Ukyo's quivering form, he thought to himself.

_I am the rabid blind dog._

"Not a chance in hell," Akane stated standing in the middle of Ranma's room.

Ranma yanked on his pigtail fiercely.

It was quite comical to Akane who had the pleasure of having a front row seat to his performance. However, all bubbling laughter cast aside, her arms remained stubbornly crossed in front of her chest, and her straight-as-a-rod back was kept as straight as a rod.

"Just once. Be a pal, eh?" He spread his hands, palms up, in front of her as a sign of camaraderie. He tilted his head to the side with a harmless smirk on his face. She could tell he had been practicing that look in the mirror.

"Oh, that's effective," she drawled, "I can feel my decision swaying."

His palms closed into strained fists, and he hung his head in semi-defeat. "You are unbelievable." He ground out through clenched teeth.

"I'M unbelievable?" She cried incredulously.

"I'll pay you! I'll snuff somebody out for you! I'll fucking carry you home!" He dribbled on unabashed.

"No!" Akane slammed her hand onto the table causing him to jump back. "For the last time, I will NOT write your paper. Besides, once your professor reads _my_ paper, she's going to know right away that you didn't write it! And she willflunk you, and your mother will get upset, and she will tell Nabiki who will torture me for the rest of my pathetic life!"

"She'll never find out!" Suddenly, he ducked his head to the side and mumbled, "If she does, she can be easily taken care of…"

She threw her hands up in the air. "Stop talking about killing people so lightly! It's… It's…" She struggled. "It's … It's rude!"

He shot her a flat look.

"Look," he started, "I will do anything. _Anything_. You have the son of the yakuza wrapped around your finger." He inched closer to Akane, ignoring the green look on her face. His voice lowered to a husky whisper as he ducked his head lower to her ear. "You have total control over me." He noticed the goose bumps rising on her arm and her ear twitched almost touching his lips.

Akane fidgeted. Her ears were suddenly very sensitive where Ranma's breath kissed her right cheek. She swallowed laboriously, and she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. His eyes were half-shut, dark and haunting, seemingly interested in her right ear. Her ear twitched in awareness. She couldn't tell whose body was giving off such heat that kept rising and rising. What were they arguing about?

He stepped even closer, his chest brushing ever so slightly against her own, barely noticeable. "What's the matter," he teased gently, "cat got your tongue?" He looked down at the crown of her hair, shining blue under the light.

She slowly raised her head, meeting her soft hazel-brown eyes with his glazed blue eyes. Unconsciously, she stretched only a centimeter closer, her lips only an inch away from his. Her soft warm breath caressed and mingled with his own, like entangled arms and legs, twisting and wrapping around each other. She peered up at him through her dark long lashes, and she whispered, "Total control?"

He barely nodded his head, his lips moving closer to hers.

"Then," Akane paused. She licked her lips, and Ranma felt he could already taste her. "I want," she stalled. She locked her eyes with his. "I want your motorcycle."

"Oh, come on!"

* * *

AN: Hi everyone! Gosh I missed you. I love you. I have been away for the longest, I know. Blame it on life. Well, it's my summer break before I have to go back to the life of a student in August. So, I plan on publishing two more chapters before I go. This is a teaser of what I have been working on. (Chapter 8 is almost finished, just tweaking a few things.) I hope you like it. Really, thank you for the reviews. The reviews encouraged me to come back and continue this otherwise, dead, story. Sometimes I think the reviewers are the real writers. Such humor, creativity, and camaraderie in the reviews, better than anything i could ever write! I love you. Feel free to contact me for any reason, I love having a nice chat and getting to know people. :)

I would respond here to each reviewer but I heard from somewhere that you can be kicked out for that. o.O scary.


	9. Chapter 9

***strolls in.***

***coughs***

**So, a priest, a rabbi, and a minister walk into a bar - **

***gets knocked out by a pineapple to the face***

This chapter was made possible by Bambolina, who's all kinds of awesome.

* * *

Nodoka had a small smile that most people attributed to her bashful docile nature. Her almond shaped eyes morphed into dark arches when she smiled her bashful smile. Her lips were small and dainty, like an ichimatsu doll. She had creamy skin, immaculate and luminous. And her hands were narrow and long with flawless, glossy, oval nails. Her hair flowed like waves of silk threads, glistening under sunlight.

She had never washed a dish or held a rag. Never swung a broomstick or dusted the curtains. She didn't water plants. She did not hang wet laundry on the clothes line. She never walked through the produce market, or the butcher store, or the farmlands. She had absolutely no idea where they were. Furthermore, she wasn't quite sure what a "plunger" was, but it was a funny looking object.

If not for her school uniform, she would've worn a different yukata of the finest silk everyday. Nevertheless, her school uniforms were crisp and pressed, spotless and pristine. Her _blouse blanche_ never had any stains or wrinkles. Her blazers and skirts smelled of fresh soap always. Her black mary-janes adorned her small feet encased in knee-high socks.

All the girls hated her.

Except one.

* * *

The second Tendo daughter came into the kitchen where her older sister was preparing ingredients for lunch for her betrothed. Kasumi's lack of acknowledgment for her younger sister did not faze her one bit. Nabiki grabbed a cookie from the cookie jar and chewed contemplatively as she watched Kasumi chop vegetables.

"Did you know," she began, "in the modern dictionary, the word 'bad' in its adjective form has 36 definitions?"

Kasumi merely hummed a response.

"After 35 definitions, all negatively defining 'bad,' the 36th definition defines 'bad' as 'outstandingly excellent,'" Nabiki said matter-of-factly. She brushed her hands of the cookie crumbs and wandered to the refrigerator. She peered inside, relishing in the cool breeze masking her face. She continued, "Maybe Michael Jackson made that possible." Scanning the array of produce and containers of food, she reached in to pull out a carton of milk. "'Bad' is its own antonym," she finished closing the refrigerator.

Kasumi grabbed a cup from the cupboard and held it out to Nabiki. "So, 'bad' is not so bad," she finally responded.

The astute Tendo daughter smirked as she poured herself a cup of milk. "Bad is good," she restated. She took a long sip arching her head back slowly. She brought the cup down to the counter and grinned at Kasumi before adding, "Bad is damn good."

"That's nice," the older sister mumbled, expertly slicing potatoes into cubes.

"I was thinking the other day," Nabiki drew on, "Akane doesn't seem to remember much about mom." She leaned against the pantry door and peered at Kasumi curiously. "What do _you_ remember?"

The oldest Tendo daughter showed no signs of providing an answer.

Nabiki quirked her lips and turned to leave the kitchen.

"I remember..."

She halted her steps. She could barely make out Kasumi's hushed voice.

"I remember," Kasumi said, "she smelled like dirt."

Nabiki burst out laughing. Wiping a tear from her mirth, she walked back to her sister, standing next to her. "Mom stunk?" She asked bemused.

Her sister smiled at Nabiki affectionately, "No, you weirdo, she smelled like dirt because she spent a lot of time in the garden planting trees, flowers, and vegetables. In fact, she loved going outdoors." She rested her knife on the cutting board deep in thought. "She took us out often. But, I guess you were too young to remember."

"Hmmm," Nabiki stared off into space. "I suppose I remember more than Akane, still. I mean, I wasn't _that_ young. And you know I was always smart for my age."

Kasumi giggled, _her sister, the humble one._

"Did you know that mom and Mrs. Saotome made a pact before we were born to have their children get married?"

Nabiki was never known for being subtle about these things. She just jumped the shark.

"I had no idea," Kasumi's eyebrows rose up in surprise. "How do you know?"

"I make it my business to know."

"I guess it's normal for close friends to wish to have their children marry," she reasoned and picked up the knife again to resume chopping.

"Don't you find it odd that mom made such a pact with a _yakuza _family?"

She suddenly found Nabiki's questioning to be genuinely legitimate. Why _did_ her mother agree to such a thing? Did she not know that the Saotomes where part of the yakuza? Kasumi couldn't imagine what would ever possess her mother to make a deal with the devil. Perhaps, that was a bit extreme. The Yakuza weren't _the devil_, but they certainly weren't chubby little fat kids with wings. They were crooks! Criminals! Outlaws! Felons! Her expression transitioned from mild concern to growing alarm.

"Why did you set up Akane with Ranma?" She asked accusingly.

Nabiki scoffed and waved her hand flippantly, "I didn't 'set them up' to date. I merely gave Akane a job. Yakuza or not, Ranma is a cretin who needs to graduate."

"Oh dear," Kasumi clenched the cutting knife worriedly to her chest, "I hope they don't get romantically involved. That would be …" She tried to come up with the appropriate word. "Bad!"

"You know it."

Nabiki knew her sister would not find humor in her carefully planned out conversation. She thought it was freakin hysterical. Though she had to admit, they never really shared the same sense of humor.

Kasumi chose to wisely ignore Nabiki's facetiousness. "Why are you suddenly asking about mom?" She changed the subject. She returned to the chopping board, taking comfort in the rhythmic sounds of the knife slicing through the carrots. Curry would be perfect for tomorrow, she thought pleasantly. She waited patiently for Nabiki to answer and hearing nothing from her dear, apparently coked-up, sister. Kasumi turned her head to look at her.

She was alone in the kitchen, once again.

She sighed and brought her hands to rest at her waist.

"She couldn't have, at least, rinsed her cup?"

* * *

"Don't you dare leave this house!"

Ryouga froze outside the apt. His fist remained half raised, inches away from the door. He immediately began to picture the current situation on the other side and wondered if he should knock or hide.

"It's not a house. It's an _apartment_," was the smart reply.

Sayuri let out a guttural cry in frustration. "Why can't you get a job and be a constructive part of this family for once?"

Ryouga's brows furrowed.

"Shut up!" Her brother's voice rose in anger, "I'm doing things my own way to help this family, so leave me the fuck alone!"

"Wait-"

The door swung open abruptly in front of Ryouga, and he braced himself for the impact as Ryu tried to rush out. Both were struck unexpectedly with each other's presence.

"Ryouga!" Sayuri's called out in relief, "Grab him!"

And he did without a second thought. The younger boy attempted to pull his arm out of Ryouga's grip, but the hold only tightened. Ryu gritted his teeth and swung his other arm, throwing a punch to Ryouga's face. Ryouga merely leaned back and the fist swung past his face. From years of training, he effortlessly twisted Ryu's arm and spun the boy around, grabbed the other to bring both arms behind Ryu's back. All the while, the younger boy spat and spewed a string of curses.

"Get your hands off me, fucking yakuza!"

"Ryu!" Sayuri cried out as soon as she reached them at the entrance. She glanced at Ryouga apologetically and ushered them inside inside. "I'm really sorry about this, Ryouga." She locked the door and followed the two men into the living. Ryu still struggled but done so half-heartedly. He didn't need to be a martial artist to know there was no way he was slipping out of Ryouga's hold. Ryouga shoved him on the couch.

"Stop causing your sister so much grief," he ordered simply.

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?" Ryu exclaimed. "What the fuck do you know about having a family? Pathetic yakuza orphan!"

"RYU!" Sayuri's hand flew across her younger brother's face before she could stop herself. "You shouldn't say such things!" She wrung her hands, rubbing the sting away. Trying to settle her nerves, she took a deep breathe and continued in a controlled voice, "You don't know anything about him."

"Do you?" He snapped back.

She faltered.

Ryouga sighed loudly. "Whatever," he stated. "What were you guys fighting about, anyway?"

The two siblings looked away. After a moment of silence, Sayuri answered tiredly, "he was leaving to go to that gang, again." She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hands. "I was trying to stop him because I have a bad feeling about it." Her brother did not defend himself or offer an explanation. He only glared at an imaginary spot on the floor.

"That shitty Pai-Lung?" Ryouga sneered tactfully.

Ryu lunged at him abruptly, crashing into Ryouga's stomach with his shoulder. It brought him a little bit of pride when they stumbled to the floor into an unceremonious heap. With the advantage from landing on top, he began to throw fists at Ryouga's face. His older sister tried with very little success to grab hold of his arms from behind. He could hear her yelling and screaming, but her words made no sense. He couldn't tell how long he had been punching Ryouga, but a sharp mindnumbing pain burst at the side of jaw and he crashed to the side. _That fucker has a hard fist_, he thought hatefully.

Pushing the boy completely off of him, Ryouga sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A smear of blood stained his hand. The boy lacked skill but not in strength. With a bit of training, he could be a formidable match, Ryouga mused. He stood up and patted Sayuri on the head reassuringly.

"Well," he said to the boy, now sitting up on the floor, "looks like you're staying home tonight."

Sayuri bit her lip waiting to see her brother's reaction. When he remained unresponsive save for a few blinks, her shoulders sagged. She didn't want to boss her siblings around and raise them like a parent, but Ryu left her no choice. If he couldn't respect her as a sister, she wouldn't respect him like a brother. But seeing him defeated and upset only made her more miserable. She decided to cook donkatsu for dinner in hopes to cheer him up a bit.

"Thanks, Ryouga," she managed to smile. "By the way, what brings you here?"

"Just wanted to check up on you guys," he answered. "Looks like I came just in time."

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" She began making her way to the kitchen. "I'm making donkatsu tonight." She quickly glanced at Ryu who didn't respond.

"Oh! My favorite!" Ryouga drooled instantly. "But, I can't, I have to go. I have to stop by the house and meet Ranma somewhere." He looked down at Ryu, as well, trying to read his face. Failing to do so, he sighed once more and moved to leave the apartment.

"If he tries to leave," he said as he strolled out the door, "call me, and I'll haul his ass back."

* * *

"Can you run that by me again?" Akane gritted out through her grinding teeth.

A young girl in a plain grey kimono hesitated instinctively. She was a pretty girl – average height, healthy brown hair twisted into a neat bun, amber eyes, full pink lips and a willowy figure of soft curves. She probably could have been a model. But no, she was too stubborn, a proud, intelligent, strong woman of the 21st century. _A career woman_, she thought with self-contempt. So, here she was working part-time to pay for her college education. She studied microbiology during the day and at night, took the role as the middle-man for a misogynistic, narcissistic, cocky little prick and his imperious, egocentric, reluctant _girlfriend_.

She realized with a start that the haughty _Miss_ Akane was still staring her, expecting an answer. She cleared her throat and answered, "The young master has a previous engagement and will not be able to keep his appointment with you today. He expresses his deepest apologies and asks that you make yourself at home, if you so wish, or you can take leave. He reassures that you will still be compensated since the fault lies with him entirely."

Akane physically restrained herself from strangling the stupid girl in the ugly grey kimono by clenching her fists. After all, it would be awfully unoriginal to kill the messenger.

"I see," Akane tersely replied. "Thank you. I will see myself out." She glared as the girl bowed and silently shifted out of the room. As soon as the girl was out of sight, she stomped her foot loudly and childishly. "Previous engagement?" she shrieked. He dared to stand her up for a last minute _date_, she thought furiously.

Ranma laughed boisterously above the music in a dark room. He really couldn't see the face of the girl currently massaging his _very_ vital organ, but he didn't mind. That was the purpose of coming to karaoke. Now, if only he could get her to stop talking into his ear. She was babbling about her new Pomeranian, and he couldn't give a damn. Two scantily dressed girls were dancing and singing off-key, annoying the shit of out him, but it was better than silence.

He peered at the rest of his men, each occupied with a gorgeous companion, and he felt satisfaction settle in his gut. He wanted his men to be happy. Happy followers equaled loyal followers.

The hand rubbing his groin picked up speed, and he adjusted himself so she can have better access. She wanted him, he knew.

"When I get my hands on him, he will wish he'd been born a girl!" Akane yelled into Ranma's empty bedroom. They had a commitment – she teaches him and gets paid, so can he learn and graduate. How can she hold up her part of the bargain if he's not around to be taught? Instead, he ditched her and went out with some floozy to get laid.

The longer she sat dumbly in the middle of Ranma's room, her rage increased ten-fold by the minute. She should scream. She should curse. She should trash his room. She should find out where he is and kick the shit out of him. She should do something to him worse than death. She will tell his mother! Akane sniggered to herself. She stood up, brushed herself neatly, and walked out of Ranma's room in search of the Saotome matriarch. She barely marched three steps before a bulky figure appeared out of the shadows and bumped into her.

Ryouga looked down at her in surprise, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm just taking another tour of this beautiful house because apparently I have nothing better to do with my time," she answered matter-of-factly. A stupid question deserved a stupid response. She wasn't particularly upset with the question but seeing Ryouga again brought discomfort. Sarcasm was the best way to cope with awkward situations.

On the other side of town, a very experienced and very well-endowed girl tried as hard as she could. With all the mental power perspiring on her smooth forehead, she attempted to go faster, ignoring the increasingly sharp pain in her forearm. She rubbed, she scrubbed, and "rolled the dice" as if her life depended on it. And, it sort of did. But with all the strokes, moans, and licks she could muster, Ranma's vital organ remained lifeless. He appeared as devastated as she.

With a large sigh, she finally stopped and looked at him square in the eyes. With a courage she never knew she had, she said, "Honey, its not me. It's you."

Ranma was struck speechless. He stared at her with his large haunted eyes, pale hollow cheeks and gaping mouth. His vision drifted up to her soft hair and traveled down to her exotic almond eyes, to her plump luscious lips, to her smooth swan-like neck, and finally rested longingly on her ample round bosoms. The confusion and utter mortification washing over his chilled body drew shivers down his spine. He stared longingly at the two wonderous globes swaying beautifully in front of his eyes, and his hand reached over to cup one of her breasts in forlorn misery. She let him.

Her expression shifted from exhaustion to concern. Was he gay? Should she call for one of the pretty boys working here? Or did Master Ranma prefer strong men like himself? She felt him gently squeeze her right breast and she couldn't lie about the pleasure that came from his soft ministrations. And pitifully, she was filled with regret. Did he really not feel _anything_? Because, she was sure as hell ready to run to the nearest motel with him. Hell, with these low lights, she'd jump him right now if he wanted.

Ranma thoughts ran on a different track: _this is punishment because I stiffed my tutor, isn't it,_ he thought in horror. Did his subconscious fear over her inevitable unforgiving retribution finally merge to the surface in the form of this debilitating anxiety? Life was cruel, the Gods, unmerciful, and karma, a bitch.

Luckily, in the dark and noisy room, none of his men had noticed his failure as a man.

He peered down at himself with extreme self-disgust, and it came to him as clear as a summer sky.

This was all _her_ fault, that hellcat. The hellcat who took his motorcycle. She might as well have taken a pitchfork and jabbed him in the gut with it.

In his most authoritative and cocky voice, he beseeched, "Put your back into it! I thought you were experienced." He threw her an accusatory glance, tersely ordering, "Bend over."

Despite his insult, she huffed self-righteously and lowered her head as she licked her lips carefully. Slowly, with her newly applied fingernails, she unzipped his pants. He was lucky he was cute, or else she would've walked out. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his foot tapping nervously. She looked up at him. Her grey-blue eyes blinked owlishly at him, and she asked, "Are you sure?"

He made a face and glared down at her between his knees, ready to snap at the stupid girl "What do you think you're being _paid_ for?" But something caught his eye. He stared at her silently, a sudden thought clearing his frustration.

Her hair was blue-ish.

Granted, it was long, down to the middle of her back. He could tell her hair was naturally brown with only blue highlights. And she lacked the upturned snobby nose and the firm taut muscles underneath her skin. She also lacked plump rosy cheeks that flush from body heat as a result of anger. Her body was tall and long, like Xian Pu, not petite enough to engulf with his own. And her eyes were not like chocolate-caramel. They were icy blue, flat and artificial.

"Take off your contacts," he said, instead. She complied, primly putting them away in a small lens case in her purse. Azusa turned her brown eyes back to him, blue strands of hair framing her oval face.

Ranma couldn't stop the roguish grin from spreading across his lips. "Now," he said with full confidence, "try again."

"Listen, about the other day," Ryouga scratched the back of his head and racked his brain for ways to continue. Normally, he wouldn't have a problem speaking his mind, but this was Akane. Her mere presence melted his brain to slush. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted her to like him, to trust him, and most of all, to not think he was as dumb as Ranma.

He cleared his throat, and started again with vigor, "I called to see if-"

Akane cut him off with a wave of her hand, and interrupted him quite rudely, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ryouga. I had to hang up quickly because I was with Yuka and Sayuri. We were hanging out at the lounge so I really couldn't hear what you were saying."

"Uh, yeah," he laughed uncomfortably, "I wanted to see if-"

"Sayuri seems to be quite fond of you," she interrupted again. Ryouga briefly wondered where she learned her manners, but thought it just made her all the more charming. A genuine smile spread across his face.

He nodded, "we became good friends. You know? I admire her for all she went through, without parents and all." His eyes dropped to the floor between them. "She shouldn't have gone through all that by herself." A small hand reached to his broad shoulder and patted him tenderly. She was so small, but her effect on him was bigger than a typhoon. The warmth from her gesture soothed his aching chest.

"She's strong and intelligent," Akane told him reassuringly. "No one could've done it better than her." Akane didn't want pity for her friend. Sayuri would not have liked that. Pity was reserved for helpless, despondent, people, and Sayuri was, if anything, a survivor. She never gave up or mulled over her woes and self-pity. Akane wanted Ryouga to understand.

His emotion-filled eyes met hers with so much unguarded intensity; she almost took a step back. She began to speak, but his large arms wrapped around her within a blink of an eye, and she froze in his grasp.

"Thank you," he began to whisper into her hair. The intimacy of it made her blush furiously, and she had no choice but to hide her red cheeks in his shoulder. He showed no signs of letting go and Akane wondered if she should initiate moving away. Truth be told, Ryouga's hug was warm and comforting, like the hot springs after a long trek through a snowstorm. But Sayuri's hurt face and Yuka's bitchy attitude made the hot springs feel like molten lava. She had to get out of there.

"Oh, my." Mrs. Saotome's murmur was louder than a thunder and the two kids broke apart faster than lightning.

They began to speak at once, and the volume of their voices rose with the flush of their faces. Mrs. Saotome would've laughed, but she enjoyed watching the kids babble. So, she let them continue.

"He was just-"

"I was just-"

"because my friend-"

"because there is this girl-"

"she's a really great girl so-"

"and I was just really happy that-"

"I think they're going out or something-"

"that girl is-" Ryouga stopped and turned to Akane with wide eyes. "-not my girlfriend."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to react. She was so confused, and it was beginning to piss her off. Why didn't anybody give her straight answers? She faced Ryouga fully and frowned at him, "Then, are you just playing around with Sayuri?"

"What?"

She brought her hands to her hips and broke out her "_I'm extremely miffed, so back off, you little shit_" face. "If she's not your girlfriend, then why are you spending all this time with her?" Akane demanded to know. "Are you some kind of player?"

Ryouga shook his head dumbstruck. It hurt that Akane felt so low of him, and to make matters worse, this was unfolding in front of Ranma's mother. What if she believed Akane? He didn't want the Saotome matriarch to think she left the safety of her son in the hands of some womanizing insensitive creep…even if they were the Yakuza! They had standards, dammit!

"Okay, kids, that's quite enough," Mrs. Saotome sternly broke in. She was itching to find out more details of this quarrel, but that would make her no better than the town's busybody gossip. She pressed on to more important matters, like, "Where's Ranma?"

She looked to Akane, who, in turn, looked to Ryouga.

Ryouga, the poor sap, had no one to look to. "Ummm…"

Ranma walked out of the karaoke with so much swagger, he felt like a trillion bucks. He was still unsure as to what went down in there, but he wasn't the type who gave a fuck. It felt good in the end. Period.

The guys around him were clearly plastered but they managed to keep their composure out in the public. One of them swayed but a companion punched his arm, and he straightened up. They bustled into a line waiting for a command, even if it was a bit sloppy. Ranma walked down the line, patting some shoulders. "Alright, guys, go home to your girlfriends." He smirked, and they gave him a thankful smile as they retreated into the night, leaving him alone in front of the club.

Ranma briefly considered going back in for another round with Azusa, but brushed off the thought as quickly as it came. Her voice wasn't quite right, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could tolerate it.

Her voice lacked a certain type of innocence. A playful lilt. There was no teasing laughter behind her eyes. There was plenty of passion. But, that was just for the want of sex. But, Ranma had no idea what the hell he was thinking about. All he knew was that, despite being satisfied, he wasn't satiated.

"So, did you enjoy your night?" A female voice flatly asked from behind him.

Ranma spun around so fast, he got whip-lashed.

There she was, in all her glory, leaning like a sinner on his fire red Ducati.

Akane, with her arms crossed in front of her chest, quirked an eyebrow at him, challenging him to deny everything. She just wanted to smack the bastard and get the whole thing over with. The ride to the karaoke on the Ducati assuaged some of the anger that simmered inside her, and all that was left was disinterest, suspicion, and mildly ironic humor. However, his swagger out of the club rekindled a furious urge to run the rear tire of her bike over and over between his legs. She'd like to see his gait after _that._

To Ranma, she was a sight for sore eyes. An ethereal glow outlined her curves, and her skin glistened and hummed from the city lights - skin that should be covered with feather-light kisses, trailing down the smooth expanse of her figure. She was still feverish from the ride, and he felt her heat emanating from where he stood a few yards away. He wanted to engulf that heat, feel his fingertips sizzle, and consume him like wildfire. He could envision himself slowly running his palms up and down those perfect waves, gripping onto her with aching need to control her and guide her. He could almost hear the sounds she would cry out with every thrust of his body. He was wrong to think she could be so easily replaced.

Akane felt her breath catch when he locked his predatory gaze towards her and began to stride languidly in her direction through the thick summer air. The dark violet ring in his eyes stirred something hot inside her and her entire body clenched tightly in anticipation. His crisp black button-down shirt shaped his broad shoulders, tailored perfectly to fit his torso. His rolled up sleeves showcased the strength lying dormant in his forearms. The casual gesture of placing his hands in the pockets of his black slacks only increased her anxiety - that he could be so relaxed when she was teetering on the brink of insanity. His deliberate slow movements were languid and purposeful, like a panther stretching before going on a hunt.

He was only a yard away, and she contemplated jumping on the bike and making a run for it. Anything to get rid of this heavy, suffocating atmosphere. But, despite his lack of any physical contact, she felt restrained and unable to move any part of her body. She managed only to clench her eyes shut, trying to ward off whatever spell she was seemingly under. But closing her eyes and taking away her sight only increased the sensitivity of her skin, tingling down to her fingers, and her ears, straining to catch any sound from him. Then, she heard him whisper directly in front of her, so close she could feel his breath brush against her lips.

"Hey." His husky voice almost did her in, and she unwittingly leaned foward, her eyes still shut tight, and fell... into a void of nothingness.

Her eyes snapped wide open, and she caught herself, stumbling over her own feet, right before her face almost crashed onto the gravel ground.

Ranma was not standing in front of her.

Regaining her balance, she turned around and saw him on his knees with his arms draped amorously over the Ducati.

"Baby-girl," he whimpered pathetically to the inanimate unfeeling transportation vehicle, "I missed you so much."

Akane felt pity for him. Seeing him groveling on the ground, weeping over what is now _her_ motorcycle, she truly felt bad for him. She calmly walked over to his crouching figure, placed a reassuring hand on his head, and kicked him as hard as she could.

* * *

Soun Tendo knew he would make Hitomi his wife from the moment they met in high school.

It was during class on one of those amazing spring days where little birds fluttered outside the and sakura leaves drifted through the wide open windows. The clear bright blue sky made the fluorescent lighting in the classrooms dim and bleak. And the scent of baked pastries, fresh strawberries, and a hint of salty ocean air teased the restless students trapped behind their desks. Even the teacher paused mid-speech to breathe in the warm breeze invoking nostalgia and anticipation.

It was at this moment, young and handsome Soun turned his head from the blackboard to the window and noticed a girl he never saw before. She was also looking outside, giving him only a side profile from behind. Her black hair was shorter than most other girls, cut right below her ear. But it accentuated her cheeks bones. She leaned back languidly in her chair, her arms crossed in front of her, not bothering to feign even the slightest bit of attention to the lesson at hand. Her toned legs were stretched out underneath her desk, the tip of her feet reaching below the chair of the student sitting in front of her.

When a solitary cloud finally drifted past the sun, allowing rays of gold to shower down on her, the light revealed sun-kissed tan skin and a ring of azure haze crowning her hair.

Soun wondered how he ever looked past this girl. It wasn't THAT big of a high school. He contemplated getting up at that moment to make her turn around and demand her name. Her shoulder twitched slightly. And calmly, she turned her head only enough to peer at him through the corner of her half-lidded feline eyes. One of her eyebrows arched up when their gaze finally met.

Thick, dark lashes petaled her eyes. A small haughty nose was raised in the air from the slight tilt of her head, and full pink lips pouted in defiance, as if challenging him to walk over as he had briefly considered.

Soun was never the type to turn down a challenge.

He drew his chair back, withdrawing a leg from under his desk. His lips began to form a side grin at the thought of her reaction.

Seeing him make the first move, the girl shifted in her chair, adjusting her body to face him more directly. However, her expression of boredom remained the same. She met his gaze full on as he stood up from his chair and, casually slipping a hand in his pocket, he ambled to her desk.

"Uh, Tendo," the teacher at the front of the classroom called out in utter confusion, "please, return to your desk." He tried several times. Whereas, the entire study body watched avidly, grateful for the distraction.

Unfazed by the attention, Soun leaned down, rested one hand on the windowsill behind her and propped the other hand on her desk, trapping the girl between his arms. From her chair, she kept her eyes on him with unwavering apathy, now looking up at him inches away from her face.

Soun debated kissing her full on the lips. After all, he figured he might as well make his claim public. The sooner the better. He dipped his head down ready to blow her mind with a mind-blowing kiss, and as if she knew his intentions, she parted her soft moist lips most graciously and … belched, loudly and forcefully, into his face.

* * *

End Chapter 9

Okay okay, i know. this was a terrible comeback. But it's not my fault, i swear. I had more action-packed material, but I had to set the stage for it. and placing the set-up with the action made the chapter too long and heavy. So i was forced to divide it. I dont want to tire out the readers! Good news is, the next chapter is almost finished. Just need to fill in the blanks. (is it just me or is this story seriously beginning to suck? egads.)

btw, Angela Jewell, Indigodusk, Roja-Cyd,(and other awesome ranma fanfic authors i can't remember right now cuz it's 2:30 in the morning), i have my eyesssss on youssss. keep writing those fics. I'm still lurking in the background, reading avidly. You guys (and then some) are the reasons I didn't make it into the top 20% of my class. Really. you made that happen. all of you. so, thank you. for being there for me, and making sure I don't overachieve.

Would it be crazy for me to go back 3-4 years (during which I slaved like a mofo in school) and reply to ALL individual reviews one by one?

oh p.s. i hate Azusa (in the manga). could you tell?


End file.
